Journey to the Past
by Becky Tailweaver
Summary: (Ocarina of Time) The battle against Ganondorf is over. Link is trapped in the future time, and Impa's stunning revelation sends Link and Co. on a perilous journey to the Deep South that will change all of their lives.
1. It's Finally Over...

((LEGAL STUFF: Link, Zelda, Impa, and the other game-based characters are property and copyrights of Nintendo. No infringement intended. No profit made--these stories are purely for reader enjoyment. The new characters introduced here are mine, purely fictional--do not use them without my permission! Any similarities to events and persons in reality or other peoples' stories are purely coincidental. Thank you for your patience.))   
((NOTE: This takes place immediately after the game "Ocarina of Time" ends. Essentially right after Zelda gets done sending Link to the past. So there's no room for in-between stories, and this fanfic hopefully keeps within the Zelda Universe continuity. Read on!)) 

  
  
**The Legend of Zelda: Journey to the Past**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
  
**Chapter 1: It's Finally Over...**

Princess Zelda lowered the Ocarina of Time from her lips, the last notes of Zelda's Lullaby fading as echoes among the ruins of what had once been the Palace. Sadly, she placed the Ocarina in her belt pouch. "Goodbye... Link..." she whispered, a few last tears in her eyes. She stood for what seemed like years in the bitter wind, shivering. An eternity of moments, already missing him. 

There was a footstep behind her. "Zelda?" a familiar voice asked. 

She whirled, shock rippling through her at the sight of the figure standing behind her. "_Link!_" she gasped, nearly fainting from relief and dismay. "I sent you home! I sent you back in time!" 

Link, Hero of Time, stood before her, hand on hip, looking just as he always had. "You tried," he replied. "But the past seven years weren't meant for me, I guess." 

"But...how...?" she stammered, embarassingly unprincesslike. 

"You know how the Master Sword trapped my spirit in time," Link explained, sounding a little confused himself. "It placed my spirit in my adult body after seven years spent in limbo. When Ganon was defeated, you tried to send my child-spirit back to the past, to my child body, so I could grow up. But there was nothing for me to return to--a paradox, I guess you could call it. I was meant to be here. Sage Rauru explained that I am most needed here, because time flows only forward. I couldn't stay." 

"So...you're really here? You're not a ghost?" Zelda asked. 

"Yes, it's really me," Link replied with a smile as he held out a hand to her. 

Zelda took his strong hand and came close to him. "What did you see? How did you come back?" 

"I left the Master Sword in the Pedestal of Time," Link said, frowning in concentration. "I walked out to find you, in the Castle. You were still there, and you turned and stared at me for a long time. You said to me, 'Link, you've come!' When I asked about your health, you seemed surprised at something happening to me. Everything disappeared into swirling blue light. Then Sage Rauru appeared, all glowing, and he spoke to me: 'Time itself has seen the taint of the future upon you. Time flows in one direction only--you cannot stay here; you no longer hold the balancing element, the Ocarina of Time.'" He paused, frowning. "It was the Ocarina that allowed me to remain in the past those times I had to go back. Without it, I was pulled back to the present." 

"So what did you do?" Zelda asked. "I remember you being there, and then you just disappeared into the blue light, and I haven't seen you since--well, apart from when I was disguised as Sheik." 

"Rauru raised his arms and summoned the Light, which he said would protect me on my journey back where I belonged," Link replied. "It was like a vortex--I think time itself hiccuped me out. It sent me back to when I'd last been--straight at the foot of the Master Sword, only this time it wasn't in my hand. It was buried in the marble Pedestal of Time. The Sword is still in the Temple, sealed behind the Door of Time, which closed when I took these," Link said, reaching into his belt pouch and drawing out three shining objects. "Here are the three Spiritual Stones. I can return them to their rightful holders, to be guarded to prevent entry to the Temple." 

"Amazing..." Zelda breathed. "I was wrong again. I thought to send you back to remain, but like you said, without the Ocarina to create a...a 'time shield', you weren't able to stay. I've got to stop thinking I know the answer to everything." 

"The wise know they don't know everything," Link said mock-solemnly. "The old Deku Tree told me that once." 

"And I'm supposed to be the Sage of Wisdom," Zelda scolded herself. 

"Being Sage of Wisdom doesn't mean you're always wise. It means you're wise when you need to be," Link said with a grin as he led her down the path to the old Marketplace. "The door between times is closed. There'll be no more confusion, now. I guess I'm here to stay." 

When they reached the old market square, the ugly ReDeads were gone, and the bitter, biting wind that had perpetually blown was absent. Even the dark clouds overhead were beginning to break up, letting the beautiful moon shine through. The ruins of the homes and shops now seemed only lonely, instead of haunted. 

They continued, Link helping Zelda to cross the broken drawbridge. When they stood at last beyond the moat, they looked out at the starlit plains of Hyrule Field. In the distance, lights flickered on the hilltop. 

"Looks like someone's home at Lon Lon Ranch," Link observed. "Would you like to go there, or to Kakariko Village?" 

Zelda leaned close to his shoulder. "I think I'd rather go to the ranch. It'll be quieter there." 

"I hear you," Link agreed. "Maybe Malon'll put us up in one of their bunks." 

The pair silently began their journey down the road toward the distant hill. 

There was a party going on at Lon Lon Ranch. 

The Zoras, the Gerudos, the Gorons, the Kokiri, and the Hylians were all gathered around a big bonfire, laughing, dancing, talking, mingling, singing, and enjoying themselves in a way that hadn't been seen since the old King's coronation day. The fire, burning on specially treated woods, strange powders, and a little magic, glowed with festive multicolored flames. 

Biggoron and Medigoron were dancing a jig, thumping the ground. Malon sang a sweet, sprightly tune to the sounds of many instruments. The Hylian villagers happily chatted with the Gorons, and the Zoras kept watch as the little Kokiri laughed and ran about like the young children they were. The Gerudos whirled like dervishes as they performed traditional dances. The only two who did not share in the festivities were King Zora and the little Kokiri boss Mido. Both mourned for loved ones gone: Saria, Sage of Forest and Mido's friend, and Princess Ruto, Sage of Water and the king's daughter. 

Suddenly, amid the music, there was a bright tone like a flute that rang out above all the other noise. Startled, the celebrating folk paused their dances and laughter, looking about in confusion. The source of the tone soon became visible: Five points of light, one green, one red, one blue, one purple, and one orange. 

"They're back!" Mido squeaked, leaping to his feet. Only he and King Zora had seen these same points of light pass overhead not an hour ago. 

The lights swooped down to them like a rainbow of fireflies, growing larger even as they came in for a landing. The glow became unbearably bright, forcing all present to shield their eyes. When the light faded, five familiar figures could be seen in the firelight. 

There was a sudden joyous outburst from those gathered. Princess Ruto was scooped up and embraced by her loving father. Darunia, the Big Brother of the Gorons, was bear-hugged by his people. The Gerudos exhuberantly surrounded Nabooru, jabbering in their excited female voices. Saria rushed to hug Mido, and the rest of the Kokiri piled around them. Impa of the Sheikah smiled in her typical sternly happy manner as she shook hands with the Kakariko villagers. 

The Sages gathered by the fireside to call order to the meeting. Excited voices chattered ceaselessly, all complimenting the five heroes. 

"What a good job!" 

"How'd you do it?" 

"The magic of the great Sages is amazing!" 

"All's right in Hyrule!" 

Another voice rose from the rear of the group, a voice young and strong. "Hey, and what are we--chopped Cucco?" 

At that, a cry rang out from the edge of the gathering. "They're here! They're here!" folk shouted. "The Hero and the Princess!" 

A path was cleared so that the new arrivals could reach the fireside. Link and Zelda came into the light, stopping before the Sages present. 

"Welcome, Hero of Time," Impa said, as implacable as ever. But for some reason, she seemed very relieved to see them. "Good work, both of you. Your Highness..." The stolid Sheikah woman came forward to embrace the Princess, for Zelda was like a daughter to her. Darunia thumped Link on the back in congratulations, guffawing in joy. Ruto blew him a shy kiss, and Nabooru crossed her arms and grinned. 

Link stopped when he stood before Saria. She smiled at him, and he knealt to hug her, engulfing her tiny form in his strong arms. "Thank you," he whispered. "I couldn't have done it without you." 

"No--thank _you_," the little Kokiri replied. "None of us would be here if not for you." 

Mido, jealous, crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently. "Hmph!" the elfin boss snorted while the other Kokiri looked on in confusion. 

Impa came to stand beside Link and Saria, Zelda close behind. "What angers you, little one?" the Sage of Shadows asked. 

"Nothing," Mido said quickly, but his voice was sullen. "But Saria's _my_ friend--not his! _He's_ not even a Kokiri!" 

Link gave a small smile. "You're absolutely right, Mido. I'm not a Kokiri." 

The little elf jumped. "Hey! How'd you know my name? What are you talking about?" 

The tiny Forest Sage giggled, taking Link's larger hand in her own small one. "Silly!" she laughed. "I'm surprised you didn't recognize him. But then, we Kokiri never grow up, so how could you know?" 

Mido scratched his head. "Huh? Who?" 

Saria laughed again. "Mido, this is Link!" 

The elfin Kokiri made a strange, startled noise and jumped about a foot backwards, staring up--_way_ up--at the tall youth before him. This person was Link--grown twice his size? 

Mido nearly choked in surprise as he suddenly recognized the rich blue eyes, the unruly golden hair, the familiar half-hipshot stance. "_Link!_" he gulped. "Really?" 

Link nodded. "Really. You were right all along, Mido. I never was a Kokiri--not a forest elf, no fairy, nothing. I'm Hylian." 

Mido remembered all the times he'd teased little Link about his lack of a guardian fairy, his lack of forest instincts, and his completely un-Kokirish looks. He also remembered all the times he bullied Link, pushing him around just because he was smaller. Now that he looked up at adult Link, he quivered with fear. "W-why didn't you say so before?" he stammered. 

Link put his hands on his hips. "I didn't want to scare you." 

"Well, I'm scared now!" the little Kokiri squeaked. "You got so _big!_" 

"No hard feelings. Really!" Link grinned, kneeling and holding out a leather-gloved hand. "I'm glad to see you, Mido." 

The Kokiri boss stared at him a moment in disbelief, looking as if Link were about to pounce on him. Seeing the familiar lopsided grin and gentle gaze, he relaxed. Then, a slow smile crept across his elfin features, and he shook Link's offered hand. "Glad to see you too, Link. I think I actually...really...missed you. I'm...you know...sorry I pushed you around." 

"Forgiven." 

"Peace has been made at last!" Saria said with a giggle. "No more fighting over me, you two. Link--" she turned to her kneeling friend. "--I am Mido's. No--don't say anything. It's not personal. I do love you, Link--you're my best friend. But...I'm the Forest Sage...and a Kokiri... And, well...you're not." 

A sad frown creased Link's handsome face. "I...understand." 

Saria looked across the bonfire at the Princess of Hyrule, with her slim, slight form and beauteous pale-blond locks. "She is for you, Hero of Time. I saw this when I first awakened. I think it's destiny--to each his own." 

Link stared at her, shocked. "But--you'll always be my friend, won't you?" 

"I promise, Link; always," Saria replied. "You're like a brother to me. But the Princess will be yours. Don't worry about me. I'll always be in the Forest--if ever you need me, just play the song." She winked. 

"I will." Link stood, saddened and surprised. "But..._Zelda?_ The Princess of Hyrule? That's out of my league." 

"She's right, Hero of Time," Impa said softly, coming up behind him. "I see a young man, the Heart of Courage, and he stands beside the Heart of Wisdom in the Castle. I see two thrones, two crowns, and..._two_ kingdoms united--?" 

She broke off, looking startled, shaking her head. "Ah...these are just shadows of things that might be--if you want them to." 

Link asked her no more, and she and Saria went on without him. The party went by as he contemplated, seated on the grass by the fence. He--on a throne? Impossible...he was just a commoner, a nobody; an orphaned, roaming warrior. 

Zelda walked up beside him, a soft, weary look in her eyes. She sat and took his hand, leaning against him. "I feel so tired," she whispered. "It's not as quiet here as we thought it'd be." 

"Indeed," replied Impa, coming up once more. "The other Sages agree; it's time for our peoples to return to our homes. It is late--and the restoration of our land must begin soon. We must rest and gather our strength for the rebuilding." 

Already the moon was beginning its journey to the far western horizon, and morning would be coming soon. Link stared up at its pale surface for a moment, then looked out at all the folk. They were comfortably arrayed about the dying embers of the fires, looking sleepy and content. 

Gradually, the Sages roused the peoples to begin their journeys back to their homelands. Ruto blew Link one last kiss as she and her father led the Zoras out of the ranch and to the river that would take them home. The Gerudos paid their respects, then made a single file line to trek the day-long journey to the desert. 

Darunia ruffled Link's hair like a proud uncle before grunting commands in his own language. The Gorons, along with the two giants, plodded towards Kakariko. Close behind them went the Hylians of the village. The little Kokiri all made a gaggle about Saria as she said goodbye to Link and Zelda and herded her people across the plain to the dark, mysterious forest. 

Before leaving with the villagers, Impa stopped and turned to Link. "Will you come with us, Hylian?" she asked, emphasizing his race. He was gazing longingly after Saria and the Kokiri. 

Link heaved a deep sigh. "I guess so." 

"It pains you to see them go, and not follow." The Sheikah's statement was not a question. 

Link nodded. "They were my friends, my family. I was one of them. Even now it's hard to look down on all of them, still so small, and know that I'll never be a part of them again." 

"The passing of time brings change, young Hylian," Impa said, again emphasizing his origin. "Things that we once were, we must leave behind. Things we once had...we can never hold again." Link did not see the Sheikah woman gazing at him with deep longing, her ruby eyes sad. But Zelda did. 

"I know," Link responded glumly. "I'll go with you, Impa." 

Again, Link didn't see Impa's expression change, this time to intense relief, though she masked it quickly and well. Zelda, watching her mentor's every move, did. But she said nothing. 

Impa flashed one of her typically grim smiles. "We'll stay at my home. It should still be in good keep. I left several villagers to watch it." 

The journey back down the ridge, across the flatland, and to the river lasted many hours, but soon the foothills of Death Mountain were visible. Link and Zelda were inestimably weary, and Zelda leaned on Impa during the last leg of the journey, Link trudging behind. By the time they crossed the river, the light of early dawn shone in the east. 

Most of the Kakariko Village's lights were out when they arrived, and Impa led them straight to her house near the outskirts. She lit a lamp and assigned sleeping quarters; she and Zelda up in the loft on the large bed, Link on the ground floor on a comfortable cot. They could get a scant few hours' rest before the day began in earnest. 

Link was so tired he could barely lift his shield to unstrap it. Hastily undressing and burrowing into the cot's quilts, he listened to the soft, indistinguishable murmers of the women upstairs preparing for bed. The voices, along with the soft flicker of the slowly dying lamplight, lulled him gradually to sleep.   
  
_To Be Continued..._


	2. Secrets Long Hidden

((LEGAL STUFF: Link, Zelda, Impa, and the other game-based characters are property and copyrights of Nintendo. No infringement intended. No profit made--these stories are purely for reader enjoyment. The new characters introduced here are mine, purely fictional--do not use them without my permission! Any similarities to events and persons in reality or other peoples' stories are purely coincidental. Thank you for your patience.)) 

  
  
**The Legend of Zelda: Journey to the Past**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
  
**Chapter 2: Secrets Long Hidden**

When Impa awoke and proceeded downstairs, the rising sun just shining into the valley, the Hero of Time was gone. His shield and equipment still remained, however, so she knew he was not gone for long. She saw to it that Zelda was awake and fed, as per her duty as the princess's sworn protector, then set out to find Link. 

Impa found him on the grassy hillside above town, staring across the little valley at the imposing, distant figure of Death Mountain. He sat in the grass looking sad and wistful, and wore neither his Kokirish hat nor his battle gloves. His golden-blond hair shone in the early morning sun. Loose and long, it hung into his eyes and down almost past his neck. 

The Sheikah woman sat beside him without a word, content to let him speak first, to see what rested foremost on his mind. For a long time, nothing was said. 

Link watched Impa out of the corner of his eye, silently marveling at the difference her change of wardrobe made. In simple peasants' dress, with her hair bound loosely in a braid instead of its usual tight bun, she looked calm and beautiful; not so stern and dangerous. 

Impa felt Link's sideways gaze but said nothing, content with her own observations of him. She was pleased at the hero he'd turned out to be. He was strong and sure, swift and good. And she could tell something was hurting him. 

"I miss the Forest already," Link began softly. "I didn't have time to be homesick during all those weeks of fighting Ganondorf, but now I really miss Saria." 

"She is still in the Forest, and you can still visit her," Impa told him. 

"But it's not the same. I can't be one of them any more." Link shifted his gaze to his booted feet. "It seems so quiet, after all the battles I've been through. I've had a lot of time to think this morning; I've been up since before sunrise. Couldn't sleep that long." 

"And where have your thoughts wandered?" 

"To how cheated I feel." 

Impa turned to look at him directly. "Cheated?" 

"Look at me. I was ten years old just a few weeks ago, not even supposed to be a warrior yet. But here I am, seventeen, and I've seen and done things no child could--or should. I feel so different from what I was. I never even got a chance to grow up. Just _bang_--I'm looking down from a man's height and speaking with a man's voice--and the change felt like it took only moments." 

"You have been given maturity before your time. I know it can be hard." Impa covered a look of sorrow with sternness. "Just take time to grow into yourself." 

Link sighed. "Zelda tried to send me back, to erase all of this, to make it as if it never happened, but...even the Ocarina cannot undo the evil that was done. Rauru told me that I was the one who had to do that--to remake the land. Like the King did." He glanced at her, then back at the mountain. "It's strange. I know that I haven't had time to grow up, but I think I already have in some ways. I think differently. I see things from a new angle. I...feel new ways. Zelda--before, she was just a girl; a friend. Now...I don't understand it..." 

Impa looked away to disguise the pained expression on her face. "You were granted maturity in mind and heart before you were granted maturity in knowlege. You are now nearing adulthood. You'll have to deal with new emotions, new needs, and new thoughts." 

"Telling me I have to deal with it doesn't make it any easier." 

"No. But I think you've begun to adapt already. You're behaving as befits a young man." She smiled tightly as Link seemed to consider that. "See? You'll be fine. There is a world that still needs us, Hero." Impa risked all to place a tentative hand on his shoulder. 

For a long time Link was silent. "I wish I'd known I wasn't a Kokiri. At least then I could've understood better when the time came." 

"They didn't tell you what you were?" Impa seemed genuinely surprised. 

"No. The new Deku Tree told me after I'd defeated Phantom Ganon in the Forest Temple. I'd already guessed something was up after I saw the other Kokiri, but I didn't truly understand 'til then." 

Impa took a deep breath, straightening. "There have been enough shadows in this land. It is time, at last, for the truth." She gazed at him. "What do you know about your origins?" 

"Almost nothing." Link looked bitter. "The Deku Sprout said that during the wars before the King took control, a woman who was gravely wounded carried her baby into the Forest." 

"I knew her," Impa replied, her voice oddly soft. 

Link jerked around to face her. "You did? How?" 

"I was with the woman that day. Her name was Zalthea, the wife of Sardon, who would one day be King." 

Link sat speechless for a second. "The _Queen?_ The Queen is--?" 

"No," Impa replied, "for the child she carried with her was not her own." 

"Then how--?" 

"If you will be silent for a few minutes, I will tell you the tale that the Deku Tree didn't know." Impa settled herself more comfortably. "It was during a battle with a Gerudo contingent, when their flaming arrows started fire to the trees around our soldiers. I was traveling with Lady Zalthea, as per my vow to Lord Sardon, as her protector. We had become deep friends over the weeks during the war, and even our children were born at close to the same time." 

Link wanted to question this, but knew all would be answered in time. 

"Lord Sardon had been sending his wife to safety in the outskirts of the Forest, along with an honor guard of twenty Hylians. I was my mistress's Sheikah bodyguard. We both carried our children as we rode along the edge of the Forest. The Gerudos, far from their lands and obviously out to destroy Lord Sardon's wife and child, attacked in great numbers." Impa looked in deep pain. "My mistress...my dearest friend... received a mortal wound from a poisoned arrow. Our soldiers fought bravely to the end, and as I tried to bear Zalthea to safety, she made me swear to protect her child as I had her, for she would soon die." 

Link gazed intently at her, snatching up every word. 

"There was no way my horse could carry both her and I and our children, and be able to escape the Gerudos," Impa continued. "I took Zalthea's child in my arms, and she ordered me to ride as far and as fast as I could, and bear her daughter, Princess Zelda, to safety. Zalthea took my child, as a decoy for the Gerudos, and fled deep into the Forest, drawing them after her." Impa took a deep breath. "I sacrificed my child to save my friend's, painful though the exchange was. And my vow to my mistress extends to her daughter as well." 

"I thought my mistress had been taken and destroyed by the Gerudos, along with my child," Impa went on. "But the Forest spirits and the power of the Deku Tree must have protected them. Then, one day, a mere lad, but one with the stealth of a trained expert, made his way past the security of an entire palace to meet with Princess Zelda. The boy had lived among the Kokiri, but was not one of them..." 

Link was staring at Impa with wide eyes, now. 

Impa gazed back at him, something like sorrow and regret in her eyes. "The child that Zalthea carried into the Forest and laid at the foot of the Deku Tree, who grew up wise in the ways of the woodlands...that child was my son. You, Link." 

Link was still trying to assimilate this information, still staring at her. "You...? Sage of Shadow...Impa...you're my _mother?_" 

"Unless you know of some other Hylian child brought to the Kokiri by a dying woman." Impa gave him a rare smile. "I knew it was you--you were no pale, slight Kokiri elf, but a strong young Hylian child. I could see it even more clearly when you returned after seven years. Your height, your build, your smile." She looked him over fondly. "And the stealth with which you move, the smoothness with which you fight, the wiry strength to your every motion...these are traits of the Sheikah." 

Link was beginning to lose some of his shock. "If I'm Sheikah...why do I not look like you?" 

Impa smiled. "Not every child of the Sheikah is born with red eyes if one parent is not of our sect. The Sheikah are still Hylians, you know, and even though the red eyes are dominant, when paired with a Hylian they do not always show. Your hair, eyes, and complexion come from your father. I am...amazed how much you look like him." 

Link started--he had not even thought about his other parent. "My father...who was he? Does he live?" 

"I know not if he still lives." Impa looked pained, unusual for a woman of her constitution. "The woman warriors of the Sheikah are not supposed to marry or bear children," she explained. "Only those girls who are betrothed from birth may choose a spouse of our own tribe. I was not one of them, though I was the Sheikah Chief's only daughter." 

"Then why was I--?" 

"Patience, Link," Impa reminded him. "Though I don't how this tale will affect you..." She took a deep breath. "It was just at the start of the war, when tensions were ripe and hatred was ready to burst. My tribe and I were far to the south along our wanderings, in the border towns beyond Lake Hylia--" 

"I thought you were born and raised in Kakariko, not a nomad tribe," Link protested. 

"That's what everyone was meant to think," Impa replied patiently. "I had to fit in with the resident Sheikah that were living here. Now hush and let me continue: I was just a young Sheikah, confident in my prowess but not experienced enough. There was a Hylian man; dashing, brave--a prince of rogues, if you will--who befriended me while my tribe stayed there. In my foolishness, I trusted him, and one night I gave in. But when morning came, he was gone. I returned to my father in private disgrace." 

Link felt as though an iron grip of shock were squeezing off his breath, even as his heart pounded with dismay that the man had simply left Impa. "That man was my father?" 

The Sheikah woman put a hand on his shoulder, still tentative about touching him. "The Sheikah have long been hated and feared in the south for our skills in stealth and combat. I confided in my father, and he sought legal recompense. The magistrate of the town granted me no justice because of his mistrust of Sheikah, and when my father went out to find the man and restore my honor, he had disappeared." 

Impa saw how this news was distressing her son, but plunged on, determined to rip away all the cobwebs that had obscured his past for so many years. "When I discovered I was with child, I fled my tribe in shame. I came north, seeking my fortune among the Hylians and the Sheikah immigrants that were already here. Lord Sardon rescued me when I fought, outnumbered, a troop of Gerudo bandits on the road past the desert. Because of his deed, I swore fealty to him and his kin, vowing to serve and protect. So he introduced me to his wife, Zalthea, and bade me be her handmaiden, bodyguard, and friend." 

"Zalthea...Zelda's mother." Link still seemed numb. 

"Yes. Lord Sardon trusted me to defend his Lady, for though I had been growing heavier with child, I had still held out against the bandits with, as he put it, the courage of a lioness. Their family had long been attended by Sheikah guardians, immigrants from the south who had founded Kakariko, and their last bondsman had died of old age after long years of faithful service. Not long after I had come into their household, it came to be known that Zalthea would have a child of her own." Impa seemed to choke, just the faintest bit. "Zalthea was my most beloved friend...the elder sister I'd always wished for...the mother I'd never known. She cared for me even as I protected her." 

"Elder sister?" Link questioned. "How could you consider her your mother? Weren't you two...?" 

Impa shook her head. "Link, I was young--no older than you are when you were born. Lady Zalthea and Lord Sardon had been hoping for a child for many years. Zalthea was more than twenty-five when I met her." 

Abruptly, Link's perception of her switched--she hadn't been a Sheikah woman in disgrace for an illegitimate child. She had been a frightened, unmarried young girl, with child by a man she thought she'd trusted and ashamed to bring dishonor on her family because of the actions of a stranger. 

"How could he have done this to you?" Link managed to grate out over his outrage and sorrow. 

"I was foolish, Link," Impa replied. "I trusted a rogue, and was hurt in return. Not that I loved you any less," she said quickly, spotting him pull away. "You were my child, my son, born of my body--how could I not care for you?" 

"But you sent me off--perhaps to die--to save Zelda." 

The accusation there stung. Impa winced internally. "Wouldn't you have willingly given your life for her?" she retorted softly. 

Link looked at her, then nodded, acknowleging having been neatly trapped. 

"I had reached Lord Sardon by the morning after the attack, riding all night," Impa explained. "For the first time in my life I was worried over something that was not my sworn duty, but the duty of my heart. I went off on my own and prayed, in tears and distraught, for your life to be spared. Perhaps Zalthea would make it to a town, perhaps some travelers might take pity on her and the babe, perhaps even the Gerudos might take the child as their own. I wanted you to live somehow, so badly that it hurt." There was actually a single tear running down the Sheikah's care-worn cheek. "I've changed a lot since then," she continued. "I dove into my work of protecting my master's daughter and raising her in her mother's stead. I became the hardened warrior that you knew me as." She gazed at him. "I am sorry, Link." 

"It...wasn't your fault. You did what you had to do." Link seemed to grow hard. "My father--what was his name?" 

"The only name I knew him by," Impa replied, "was Lyon." 

For Link to know that his origin was less than honorable, his father not an honest man, was crushing. His mother had been an unwed teenager, his father a deserter. What kind of nobility was that? 

Link rose suddenly, the sun now much higher in the sky, glinting off his bright gold hair. Impa stood beside him, reaching for him, a mother's longing suddenly tinging her voice. 

"Link, please, don't be angry for what happened," she asked softly. "If you must blame anyone, blame me, for my foolishness..." 

"No!" Link stared at the ground. "I'm nothing--nobody--the illegitimate son of a scoundrel--" 

"And the Sheikah attendant of the princess." Impa once again put a hand on his shoulder. "Do not think yourself unworthy. Zelda already knows, Link, and it means nothing to her." 

"She _knows?_" Link looked at her, scandalized that the princess knew of the circumstances of his birth, eye to eye, nearly her equal in height. 

"I told her everything I knew about you, a few years after you vanished, when we were on the run." 

"But...what of others? What would they say if the princess were to consider someone like me?" 

"That our princess should consider the Hero of Time a suitable companion is a joy to them. You forget that I am a Sage, Link. I know the hearts of my people." 

Link still gazed at her, all the hurt and shock and outrage and disbelief of the past hour's revelations coming to the surface once more. "Impa..." He paused, daring for a moment of moments to say it--that special word--the word that would make it all real. It took a mammoth dose of courage. "Mother..." 

Impa had to swallow a sob that threatened her hardened exterior. "My son," she answered. She was secretly overjoyed when he hesitantly took her hand. 

"I will find him," Link said, his voice as firm as she'd ever heard. "Lyon will answer to you for the things he did." 

Impa shook her head sadly. "Don't go looking for him, Link. The past lies buried, now--let it remain. You might not like what you find." 

"Not for you, then, but for me." Link gazed up at Death Mountain. "Perhaps you have forgiven and forgotten. But now that I know...I just need to ask him why." 

Zelda was waiting for him at the edge of town. Link, overjoyed to see her, jogged down the slope to take her hand. "Sorry to run off like that," he apologized. 

"I don't mind at all," the princess replied, smiling a greeting to Impa. Zelda was dressed in a simple but pretty peasant girl's frock, her elegant dress and sparkling jewels absent, her hair pulled back to a single ponytail. "It seems you and Impa had a lot to talk about." 

"That we did, Zelda," Impa said, striding past her towards the house. 

Zelda walked beside Link, letting Impa go on ahead. "So, what was it that kept you two up there until nearly noon?" 

Link glanced at her, then the ground, then straight ahead. "We talked about the time travel, about the Forest, about me. And Impa told me everything." 

Zelda stopped, whirling to him. "You mean you know she's your mother?" 

Link nodded. "She told me about myself, and your parents, and the war, and...my father." 

Zelda took his hand. "I know that must have been hard." 

"I'm going to find him," he promised softly. "No matter what." 

"But it's so soon after Ganon. Must you go off on a wild goose chase?" 

"Goose chase? More like a Cucco chase." 

"I know hearing about your father has made you bitter, but you can't blame a man for the mistakes of his youth." She gave him a pleading look. 

"I only want to ask him..._why_," Link said. "I want to know who he is...or was. And what made him leave Impa like he did. Alone...with me." 

Zelda set her jaw. "Well, if you're going, I'm coming with you. I'm not going to let you run off on your own. This time, _I'm_ going along on the adventure." 

"Princess, you're not--" 

"Must you always think of me as a princess, and a princess only?" she asked with a laugh. "Don't you remember who you thought I was before?" 

"Sheik. But--" 

"So I'll go as Sheik again. You've forgotten that I was taught by Impa the ways of the Sheikah since I was little. I can hold my own in a fight--and did, many times, during our seven-year exile." 

Link still looked doubtful. 

"Besides," she went on, "I'm the princess, so what I say goes." 

"Well, come on then," Impa's voice cut in. "If we're going to the south, Link, you have a lot of learning to do." 

The Hero whirled. "Impa! I didn't know you were--" 

"Stealth," Impa explained. "Although much of it comes naturally to you, you'll have to work much harder to fool a Sheikah." 

Link looked back and forth between the two women, standing there in the doorway. "All right, I guess. Teach me what I need to know."   
  
_To Be Continued..._


	3. Lessons in Heritage

((LEGAL STUFF: Link, Zelda, Impa, and the other game-based characters are property and copyrights of Nintendo. No infringement intended. No profit made--these stories are purely for reader enjoyment. The new characters introduced here are mine, purely fictional--do not use them without my permission! Any similarities to events and persons in reality or other peoples' stories are purely coincidental. Thank you for your patience.)) 

  
  
**The Legend of Zelda: Journey to the Past**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
  
**Chapter 3: Lessons in Heritage**

What Impa taught Link first was the amount of learning he had to _un_learn. To be a Sheikah meant to be a master stealth first, of unarmed combat second, and weapons third. Zelda, a female with no Sheikah blood, had mastered much of what Sheikah girls her age knew. For Link, Impa thought, half-Sheikah already and a natural to boot, it should be even easier. 

The first thing Impa did was declare a three-day period of rest and healthful food for all of them. They needed to get their strength back. 

Then, the training began in earnest. 

Impa took him on long forays into the mountain foothills and forests on Death Mountain's side, teaching him the art of silent moving. Impa would track him through the woods, seeing if her instruction had paid off. His Kokiri upbringing gave him an edge in the forest, and he could outsmart Zelda in a game of "fox and hounds". When things got more serious, Link would have to crouch in a fern clump or sit in a tree for hours on end in a long, tiring game of hide-and-seek, with both Impa and Zelda being the seekers. When Impa could neither track him nor find him, she declared him ready for the next level. 

Link was forced to rethink combat tactics drastically. Impa covered the basics of unarmed fighting first, forcing him to think on his feet and learn to cope without a metal shield to hide behind. Without a sword in his hands, he felt strangely helpless. But slowly and surely, his defense became stronger, his attacks faster, and soon he was adept at punches, hand-chops, high kicks, and sweep kicks, as well as a variety of holds and defenses. He was a bit rough on technique, but effective. It took him little time to master what took most Sheikah years to learn. Impa congratulated him on his natural talent. 

Impa left out the broadsword training, seeing as how Link was already an expert. Instead, she started with the quarterstaff, then worked her way up through the blunt weapons. Then on to the edged ones; knives, scimitars, sabers, and finally, single sword only. Link had to learn to fight with any weapon, with either hand. He had to concentrate even harder to call upon his own swordsmanship ability to attack and defend with a small, narrow sword and no shield. But the thrill of combat sang in his blood, and soon he could defeat Zelda easily, and beat Impa twice almost by accident. 

Link loved his horseback training as well, as it allowed him to work closely with his steed, Epona. The mare was willing, able, and a responsive partner. Link was a master at horseback archery, but he also had to learn to fight with all available weapons while riding. He learned to do what he called "saddle tricks," such as turning backwards, sitting sideways, handstands, and riding standing, all at top speed. He mastered the ability to mount a galloping horse from the ground or a platform, and to get off the same way. He learned how to knock another rider off, from the ground and from horseback, and even how to switch to another horse while riding at full speed. 

Link also used this time to get to know Impa better. He discovered that she was a woman of deep feeling, with a heart as big as Hyrule though she strove to hide it. Her tough exterior hid a tender and loving spirit, a spirit that she longed to share with him but found hard to do because of their distance. Link, though he knew who she was, he had called her "Mother" only once, and had not dared do it again. 

Three months of intense work--though Link loved every moment of it--and Impa abruptly announced that they would be leaving on the morrow. Link and Zelda barely had time for a surprised and delighted glance at each other before Impa declared lights-out in the house. 

The morning brought high spirits and a trio of Hylians already packing. Impa donned traditional Sheikah clothing for a woman of her age, and Zelda wore the garb of Sheik. Link was given an outfit slightly similar to Zelda's, in the typical style for a Sheikah. He felt reluctant to give up his green tunic, his last bit of Kokirish heritage, but he did it willingly, for this was a journey he refused to back down on. 

He chose to pack only weapons a Sheikah typically carried, cutting his usual arsenal by more than half. He brought the bow with which he excelled at archery, a dagger about the same size, heft, and quality as the Kokiri Sword, Deku Nuts for vanishing without a trace, and a larger, stronger version of the boomerang he'd once used, this one made of black oak and adorned with a green balance stone at the apex. 

Saria had made him a new ocarina, an adult-size green one, which she called the Forest Ocarina. She and her fairy, Devin, had dropped by a week ago to say hello and give it to him. Amid the hugs of greeting she explained to him how she knew everything about his parentage, his journey, and his intentions from her conversations with her fellow Sage, Impa. She kissed him on the cheek and wished him good luck before disappearing into a tiny globe of green light that zipped away back towards the Forest. 

Secretly, Link was overjoyed that Impa and Zelda had insisted on joining him. The reconstruction of Hyrule Castle was going well, what with the Master Carpenter and his expert assistants helping the Goron stonemasons to build the place. Soon, the tall, beautiful spires would stand again. Everything seemed bright as the last three months of summer had cycled into the beginning of sunny, brisk autumn. 

Link was nearly bouncing with the excitement of setting out soon. Impa and Zelda were in the house, gathering last-minute necessities, while he was strapping the saddlebags to Epona's sides. There was an unexpected but familiar fluttering sound above him, making him jump in startlement. "Hey!" said a tiny voice. "You're not leaving on another adventure without me, are you?" 

Link looked up. "Navi!" he greeted with a welcoming smile. 

"In the glow," the little fairy replied smugly. "I was hanging out in the Deku Tree meadow with the other fairies when Devin told me what he'd heard from Saria--that you were going off again." 

"You heard right," Link replied. "I'm going south for a special reason." With that, he launched into a narrative that quickly reiterated the story he'd been told by Impa and finished by telling her of his promise to find his father. This left her slightly speechless--quite an accomplishment for such a talkative fairy--while she tried not to gape at this sudden explosion of information. 

"Well, I'm coming anyway," she finally stated. "I think it's wonderful you've found your true mother. I don't care what the other fairies say--I don't care that you're not Kokiri. I'm not supposed to follow an outsider, but you're my friend. I'm going to be your fairy whether they like it or not." 

"You don't have to," Link said. 

"I _want_ to," Navi asserted. "We've been through so much together--and besides, the Forest is so _boring_ without you around!" 

When all was packed on the three horses outside, Impa greeted Navi cordially, then took the two Hylians by the hand and led them back into the house. "The most important part of the disguise," she explained. Zelda's eyes twinkled, but she didn't explain to Link what her mentor meant. Navi flitted and twinkled from place to place, watching. 

Impa had them kneel, then knealt before them, a small red crystal in her hands. "Zelda's magical disguise was a one-time-only gift from a friend during our journeys. It hid her from Ganondorf by slightly changing her physical form--giving her a different hair color, tinting her skin--as well as disguising her mental aura. In effect, she was masked from any magical detection until she removed the disguise. Since we don't have that option, we'll just have to do things the old-fashioned way." 

"Aren't you a Sage?" Link asked. "Can't you just wave your hands and--?" 

Impa gave him another one of her exhasperated looks. "Link, the magic of Hyrule imparted to the Sages is not up to us. The land itself chooses when and what we must do." 

"Silly boy!" Navi put in. 

"That's why Impa's using this crystal," Zelda said with a glance at the impetuous fairy. "It can do what we need with a minimum of magic." 

"What do we need?" 

"Watch," Zelda said with a giggle, closing her eyes. Impa lifted the crystal and passed it back and forth over Zelda's forehead for a moment, her own eyes closed in concentration. Link felt a tingle of magic pass through the air, and when Zelda's eyes opened again they were a striking red color, as Sheik's had been. 

Navi sparkled in surprise. "Wow!" 

"Oh!" Link said, startled. "That part of the disguise. Do I...do I have to do that, too?" 

"If you want to pass for a true Sheikah," Impa explained. Then she cocked her head to regard him. "I think that if you mastered this mode of disguise magic, being half Sheikah, you could change your eyes on your own. But it's a difficult method to learn and we don't have time now to teach you." 

Link reluctantly closed his eyes, allowing Impa to perform the procedure. He felt a tingle of magic, alike but strikingly different than what had passed through Zelda. It was as though the crystal didn't have to _create_ the new eye color; it reached deep into him and pulled up something that was already there. His eyes itched slightly for two seconds, but by the time Impa said, "It's done," they had stopped. 

Link opened his eyes. Everything was just a tad blurry for a moment, but soon cleared. "Did it work?" he asked. 

Impa was gazing steadily at him. "Perfectly." 

Link rose and rushed over to the little mirror above the washbasin. When a sharp red gaze pinned him from out of a gold-haired, angular face, he drew back in amazement. Where Zelda/Sheik's eyes were dark red, his were bright ruby-colored. "Just like yours, Impa!" he found himself marveling. 

Impa and Zelda were standing near him. "You are my son, after all," Impa reminded him. "We're ready to depart." 

"Wow, Link! You look scary, now!" Navi squeaked. 

Once outside, they finished strapping everything to the horses. Impa wore clothes much like Sheik's, but cut a little like her old battle gear. Over this she donned a Sheikah-style cloak, embroidered with the Eye of Sorrow. Zelda and Link were given similar cloaks, and Zelda wore the dark blue clothing and pale wraps that were her hallmarks as Sheik. She had to once again use the wrappings as a mask to disguise her softer features. Impa, a grown Sheikah warrior woman, could intimidate potential opponents; Zelda, small of stature and a young girl, could not. But as Sheik, at least she was somewhat threatening, in the same manner as a small, silent wildcat. 

Link wore clothing of a similar style to Zelda's; close fitting, dark green instead of blue, but the mask he wore pulled down around his neck; no need to disguise his face. His newly ruby eyes flitted back and forth in excitement as he mounted Epona and reached for her saddlegrip. 

Impa smiled. "Eager, aren't we?" She mounted her gray gelding, Cloud, while Zelda sat upright in Moonlily's saddle. Moonlily, the same white mare that she and Impa had fled from Ganondorf on, all those years ago. They urged their horses to a steady walk as the villagers gathered to see them off, shouting goodbyes and blessings of good luck. Once out of the town and on their way on the road down through the hills, Impa slowed to allow the two to come up on either side of her. 

"You two are to play the part of my sons," she instructed. "Link, the elder, and Sheik, the younger." 

"Isn't my name not Sheikah?" Link asked. "I'm not even sure it's Hylian." 

"Oh, it is. I named you, remember?" Impa said. "The word 'sheik' in the Sheikah tongue means 'shadow,' and 'sheik-ah' means 'shadow-folk.' My own name means 'twilight'." 

"The Sage of Shadow--Sheikah," Link realized. "Then Link is a Sheikah name?" 

"Yes," Impa replied. "In Hylian, a link is a connection or bond. In Sheikah, 'link' means 'shade'." 

"Like shade from a tree?" 

"No..." Impa gave a short chuckle at his innocent question, thinking for a moment. "Perhaps I translated to the wrong word. I meant shade as in 'ghost' or 'phantom'." 

Link had such a perplexed look on his face that Zelda burst out laughing. "It's all right, Link," Impa assured him, forcing herself not to join Zelda. "My people aren't superstitious. For a Sheikah, it's a very complimentary name. It heralds your swiftness and silence, like a ghost." 

"I can tell I still have a lot to learn," Link said. 

As the horses fell back to single file, Zelda looked back at Link. "It's too bad you grew up apart from your mother," she said. "You know almost nothing about a whole half of your heritage." 

"I've learned a lot from her," Link said defensively. 

"That you have, and you've done well with all I've taught you," Impa agreed. "But I'll have to teach you the Sheikah tongue." 

"I'll help," Zelda volunteered. 

"Me too!" Navi cried, though in truth she didn't know a word of Sheikah. 

"I'm glad you three are coming," Link said for the hundredth time in the past three months. "I don't know what I'd do alone." 

"Just remember that next time you tell me to buzz off," Navi retorted smugly, before popping under his turban. Under his hat was her usual hiding place when she wasn't required, or needed rest. 

They crossed the bridge over the river two hours after departure and had lunch on the open plains, Lon Lon Ranch in sight in the distance. With their early morning start, the trio pushed on late into the evening and spent the night on the ridge just outside the Ranch. As they lay in their bedrolls staring up at the stars, they talked of what they would see far to the south, of the people they would meet, and Link began a small bit of practice in the language of his mother's people. Impa was native, and Zelda fluent, but Link stuttered and stumbled over the simplest of sentences. 

The dawn of the next morning saw them already underway, traveling down the valley and into the large bowl that contained Lake Hylia. The great Lake stretched on and on, the farthest shores barely visible, and they reached it late in the afternoon. 

"Some say this Lake is the center of the world, where all the water goes," Impa said softly as they stood on the hillside overlooking the sparkling water. "Others say it is Death Mountain that is the center. Still others believe it's the Castle. No one has ever marked the true boundaries of our land." 

"Not even fairies," Navi whispered softly, her tiny head peeping out through Link's long gold-blond hair, just above his ear. 

"For a long time no one went beyond Hyrule proper," Zelda explained. "Just the lands of the Gerudos, the Zoras, the Gorons, and the Kokiri." 

"Then where did the Hylians come from?" Link asked. 

"From the vast expanses of Hyrule Field," said Impa. "Our people were plainsdwellers; hunters, gatherers, and wanderers. We made huts of grass and brush and moved from place to place following the herds of wild cattle and horses." 

"Hyrule Field sure is big," Link commmented. "Horseback alone takes near two days to cross, just going straight south from Kakariko to the Lake. The rest is even more enormous." 

"And we've many days ahead of us, as well," Impa reminded them. "With no ferry across the Lake, we'll have to go around." 

Zelda shivered just a bit. "None of us have ever been beyond the Lake. Or Death Mountain, or the Desert, or the Castle." 

"Or the Forest," Link added. 

"Does that even have an end?" Navi whispered, still only so Link could hear. 

"You're both right," Impa said as she nudged her horse into a walk, "Central Hyrule is a very sheltered land, despite the evils of Ganondorf. It was the safety within the bounds of the Circle of Temples that made this land so appealing." 

"A circle?" asked Link 

"That's silly," Navi said, and Link waved a hand towards his ear to quiet her. 

"Have you not seen a map of Hyrule that includes the Temples?" Impa asked. "The Temples form a circle that encompasses our land. You can draw a single line all the way around--Forest Temple, Shadow Temple, Fire Temple, Light Temple, Spirit Temple, and Water Temple. All are on the outermost edges of Central Hyrule." 

"Like a circle of protection," Link acknowleged with a nod, keeping Epona close beside Cloud. 

"My father called everything outside of this circle the 'Wild Beyond'," Zelda said, following. 

"It is much wilder than anything you know," Impa said. "Once we pass the far side of the Lake, our guard must be up. It's a dangerous land." 

"Not as dangerous as the stuff Ganondorf threw at us," Navi whispered in Link's ear again. 

"Shush!" Link hissed. "I'm trying to listen." 

But no more was said. As they rode down to the shore, Link saw the squat form of the Lakeside Laboratory on the rock bluff over the Lake, and far off along the shoreline he could just glimpse the old Fishing Station. Even the great tree on the island far into the Lake still stood tall, a marker for the ancient Water Temple. Briefly, he wondered if Princess Ruto of the Zoras was there. 

They passed by the old scientist's lab, heading for the craggy rocks and high spires that signaled the beginnings of the Gerudo Canyon, the last bed of Zora River. The frothy falls and white rapids spilled out below them as they crossed a narrow, rocky land bridge. 

Impa then led them along the lakeshore, where it began to grow craggy. They had to switchback and climb the high, mesa-like sides of the western Lake bowl, where it intersected with the rocky high desert. Just a few hours to the west one could find the beginnings of sand and wind, and the Gerudo Desert. 

But their path was along the side of the lake. Their camp that night was in a flat area among the rocks, with the sounds of night birds and the tiny laps of lakewater against the shore. The horses tethered safely nearby, the travelers bedded down in a cleft, and Link listened eagerly to another language lesson, politely tolerating the comments of his impetuous fairy companion. 

By noon of the next day, they had left the rough desert edge behind and found themselves in rolling hills and dense pine forests, the Lake often barely visible through the brush as they wound their way along the shore. Their only guide besides Link's trusty magnetic compass, they would soon be lost without the silver glint of water through the trees. Often, they would have to dismount and lead the horses through the worst thickets, and their going slowed to a crawl. They went on like this for two days before the shore of the Lake began to curve away from their southerly course. 

"I remember when I came this way," commented Impa that evening as they stayed their last night near the shores of the Lake. "I had never been this far north--few Sheikah venture this way--and I had never seen so vast an expanse of sweet water. Central Hyrule is a very rich land." 

Link was coming along well in his language lessons, already good at things like simple greetings, questions, and names for common objects. A little weak on complicated grammar, but Impa thought him a fine pupil, though Navi's laughter at his mistakes was sometimes ill-timed. Link found the consonant, flowing tongue oddly familiar. 

"It should be," Impa said in answer to his comment on this, during their first night out of sight of the Lake in the deep darkness of the woods. "It was the only language I spoke to you in as an infant." 

The travel through the forest, up and down the rolling, tree-covered hills, took more than three days. Link was comfortable in the woody-smelling closeness of the trees, but Zelda once expressed her half-joking despair of ever seeing the open sky again. 

They began to descend out of these foothills on the morning of the eighth day of their journey. The forest thinned, then petered out into a dry, rolling prairie and clumps of trees gathered around springs and rivers. 

Impa informed them of their situation during their first night on the open grass. "It will take a week to cross this prairie to the lands of my own people. My hope is that there are other towns along this route that I passed by in my hurry to the north seventeen years ago." 

True to Impa's word, they saw nothing but grass and occasional trees for four straight days of travel. Their food supplies were beginning to look thin, but then Link, after a brief conference with Navi, suggested they swerve their course just slightly to the southwest, where he could see in the distance the beginning of more tree-covered hills. He thought that there might be a town on one of the hillsides, given the rivers flowing from that direction. 

Link was becoming more fluent in the language and customs of the Sheikah, and during his lessons there were fewer and fewer laughable mistakes. It took them two days to reach the foot of the hills, but they were already overjoyed to have seen lights up the hills the night before. As Link had thought, there was a small, rough village there. 

Impa called a meeting before entering, to set some ground rules for interaction with the people. Link and Zelda were glad to comply. 

"We're not going to stay the night in the town," she informed them. "We'll sleep out in the forest. Speak Sheikah whenever possible--that goes double for you, Link--because we'll need to keep up our ruse." 

"Our red eyes will let them know before we even get close," Link said. 

"One word of Hylian out of your mouth and they'll know where you're from," Zelda countered, interrupting Impa. "You and I have a northerner's accent." 

"Funny. I didn't think I had any accent at all." 

"That's 'cause you do all the talking," Navi quipped from her perch on his shoulder. 

"You're used to it," Impa explained. "It's the people here that'll have an accent to you." 

"Do we have enough Rupees to buy food?" Link asked. 

"The people here don't use Rupee jewels as money," Impa explained. "They use gold. It's a metal, I know, but it has much value because it's very rare here. I only have a little, so we can't splurge. Still, Rupees are of good enough quality for gems that we might be able to barter with them." 

They rode into town that afternoon, single file and silent, as is Sheikah custom. Masks pulled up, cloaks pulled close, they looked every inch the mysterious, dangerous Sheikah wanderers. Everything from their horses' tack to their saddlebags was just as any Sheikah warrior would have. No one should have reason to doubt. Link noted the odd stares they received from passers-by, but passed it off as them just being strangers in town. 

They tied their horses outside the town's bazaar and stepped in, three dark figures against the afternoon light. Link was thouroughly enjoying all the cloak-and-dagger stuff. 

"[Be silent, my sons,]" Impa said softly in Sheikah. "[I will haggle for food.]" 

"[May we go look at the weapons, Mother?]" Zelda whispered. Her voice was lowered and roughened to approximate a young lad's. Her eyes sparkled above her mask, showing her mirth at calling Impa 'mother'. 

"[You may, Shadow,]" Impa replied, equally amused. She then turned to the shopkeeper, who waited impatiently behind the counter. As Link was led to the rear of the store by Zelda, he heard Impa speak Hylian, though she made her speech thickly accented and poor. "Buy food here? Price be good." 

"[You haven't said a word,]" Zelda whispered to Link when they reached the weapons rack. 

Link fingered a pike blade, inspecting the edge. "[Not good enough,]" he replied, his Sheikah still foreign to him. "[Mouth is strange.]" 

"[You mean, 'tongue'.]" Zelda corrected. "[You know, all you need is a little more confidence. You should be chattering away with your little brother.]" She didn't allow herself any girlish giggles, but kept herself firmly in the Sheik persona. Even Link almost thought he was speaking to the young man he'd thought she was, back during the battle with Ganondorf. 

"[What? Slow speak, please,]" Link managed. "[I still not flowing.]" 

"[Fluent,]" Zelda reminded him. 

"[One wrong before native speakers and we are gone,]" he retorted with a frown. He shook his head in annoyance at his lack of fluency. "[Frustrate. Why Twilight call you Shadow?]" 

"[What did you hear in Hylian?]" 

Link considered. He'd said, _"Par Impa shuka Sheik?"_ "[Ah,]" he realized. "[Names literal for Shadow-Folk.]" 

Link heard the other people in the shop talking amongst themselves, much of it about the three new arrivals. They probably thought they were just two Sheikah boys talking about the shining weapons on the shelves, but they were afraid nonetheless. Link knew he probably cut an impressive figure; a strong young man, a bow and quiver strung at his shoulder and a knife in his belt. "Sheik" was less imposing though no less threatening, with the long, slim assassin's dagger carried at her side. 

"[We're done,]" Impa called from the front of the store, hefting the new bags of hardbread, cheese, and rice cakes. 

Link and Zelda came obediently back to her side. Following his companions out, Link bumped into a man just coming into the door. The man backhanded him viciously, knocking him to the ground. "Sheikah whelp!" he spat venomously. 

Navi could faintly be heard in Link's hat, railing at the man, but with enough presence of mind not to use Hylian. Instead, she shrieked and squeaked in the fairy tongue, sounding like an irate mouse. Fortunately, only Link could hear her. 

Offended by the man's predjudice, Link jumped to his feet, tensed and angry. Then Zelda was at his side, tugging his elbow. "[Don't fight! Come away! Remember, you don't understand him!]" 

Still fuming, Link allowed himself to be led away by his "brother". 

"Yeah, go off and run, red-eyes!" the cruel man guffawed, his accent twangy-sounding and rough, obviously thinking the youth couldn't understand him. "Demon spawn, them Sheikah," he said to his friend behind him. "You can tell by them eyes. Sneaky buggers'll steal ya blind." 

Link burned with anger. Turning to the men, he said loudly in Sheikah, "[You are the son of a sick cow and an ugly pig! If I were not on a mission I would teach you what honor really is!]" With that, he left the man still laughing at him and strode back with Zelda to their waiting horses. 

Impa, waiting there, looked about to burst with laughter. "[Well handled, Ghost,]" she complimented. "[That's about as fluent as I've ever heard you speak.]" 

"[See?]" Zelda agreed. "[I told you all you needed was confidence.]" 

"[Let's just leave,]" Link said, marveling at the almost magical way he understood them so easily. "[I have a feeling we won't be long welcome here.]" 

Out in the forest that night, Link waited until Zelda had gone off for privacy before approaching Impa about his almost miraculous new ability. Impa looked at him steadily for a moment before answering. 

"It may be that your subconscious mind only needed the impetus to burrow into old memories of the days when all you knew was Sheikah," she said. "Perhaps the anger you felt and the need to speak only that tongue unlocked a hidden door in your mind." 

"It's strange how easily it comes, now," Link said. "When you said my name, back in the town, I really didn't hear you say 'Link'. To me, you really truly called me Ghost--in Sheikah, that is." 

"It is what I named you," she told him. "You were a child unknown by my family, carried in secret. You were silent at birth. You came in the dark of the night, quickly--so swiftly you were born before the midwife came. You were right for the name Ghost. Swift, silent, secret, strong..." She faded out when Zelda walked back into camp. "No one saw you?" she asked. 

"I hope not--that's embarrassing," Navi commented, perched atop Link's head. Link rolled his eyes, at his wits' end with the irrepressible fairy. 

"No," Zelda replied, with a smile for Link and a wink for Navi. "I know better than to let anyone see what I'm doing when I'm disguised as a boy. [Don't fuss over me, _Mother_,]" she added in Sheikah. 

Impa turned suddenly to Link. "You haven't called me 'Mother'." 

Link winced internally. "I...don't know..." 

She gave him a sympathetic look. "I know it is still hard for you, Link. But one day our disguises might depend on that one word." 

There was uncomfortable silence for a long time. 

"So," Zelda tried, "did we get enough supplies for the rest of the trip?" 

Link was glad when the two women struck up a conversation excluding him, giving him time to think.   
  
_To Be Continued..._


	4. Deep in the Southland

((LEGAL STUFF: Link, Zelda, Impa, and the other game-based characters are property and copyrights of Nintendo. No infringement intended. No profit made--these stories are purely for reader enjoyment. The new characters introduced here are mine, purely fictional--do not use them without my permission! Any similarities to events and persons in reality or other peoples' stories are purely coincidental. Thank you for your patience.)) 

  
  
**The Legend of Zelda: Journey to the Past**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
  
**Chapter 4: Deep In The Southland**

It was a long three days before the traveling trio made it to the beginnings of the low, rolling, tree-covered hills that marked the end of the expanse of grass and shrubbery. "And I thought Hyrule Field was big," was Link's only comment as they passed into the cool forest. 

The last leg of the journey was spent town-hopping from village to village, mostly keeping to themselves and camping on the edges. After four days of such, they stayed in an abandoned barn, and Impa at last sat with them to discuss their destination. 

"We're heading for a town called Sapphiro," the Sheikah explained, using a stick to draw a crude map in the dust, by the light of Navi's blue-white glow. "Here is where we are--I think," she said, using her stick to point. "And here is the river we'll have to cross. Hopefully the ferry I used is still there. The town is a few miles above the junction between this river and another." 

"Why are we going there?" Link asked. 

"Don't ask dumb questions," Navi ordered, flitting past Link's nose. 

"It's not a dumb question, Navi. It's where I last left my people," Impa said, brushing the designs away. She looked at Link. "From there we'll go to where I last saw your father." 

The first thing Impa wanted to do when they reached Sapphiro was make inquiries as to the whereabouts of her tribe. The last few Sheikah emigrants to Central Hyrule had not given any information as to where her people had gone. She believed that the first best thing to do was to present herself and her son to her father, and to explain why she'd left so abruptly seventeen years ago. Link was hesitant, preferring to search for his father, but Impa insisted that he should meet the old chieftain first. Chief Imrek would doubtless be impressed with his warrior grandson. 

"So many memories," Impa sighed as they stood on the hillside overlooking the sizeable village. It seemed such a happy place. "The day my tribe stopped here was always a festival day. The villagers would turn out in droves at the marketplace, welcoming us to buy cider, currants, pastries... It was like a carnival at Castle Village." 

Link looked about the town, transfixed by the history he felt here. This place had seen him still part of his mother, though he had never seen the place himself. "Where did you meet my father?" he asked. 

"In the marketplace in the town of Rynor," Impa replied. "He offered to take me to lunch at Fibbo's Pastries. The big elm tree was our favorite place to meet. I'll show it to you when we get there." 

Zelda glanced at Link, seeing him staring hard into the distance as if ordering the sky itself to divulge its history of that period in time. Impa, however, broke the silence to order them to move out, heading into town. 

The reaction they drew from the townspeople was less than rewarding, however. Folk drew away when the three approached, leading their horses. Mothers pulled their children indoors and fathers stood careful guard over their homes. Shopkeepers along the main street took their most valuable items behind their desks, and even the beggars hid their cans and hats of money. 

Impa gazed about, disgusted by their attitudes. "[Superstitious simpletons,]" she muttered in Sheikah. Pausing before a blind beggar, who hadn't removed his alms cup because he couldn't see who was coming, she dropped two pieces of gold into it with a _clunk_. It was loud enough to be heard throughout the quiet square. "[Let them chew on that for awhile,]" she commented to her "sons". 

At last, the trio found a town guardsman willing to talk to them. He was an older gentleman, and looked close to retirement. 

"I come seeking Sheikah tribe," Impa said, using her fake bad accent. "You see where they go? I gone seven and ten years." 

"Hmm, lets see...ah, the tribe that stopped here to trade? Yes..." The man appeared to be thinking. "They've come back often enough, once a year, to trade their goods and horses. They left about a month ago--heading for the River Barrens, I believe the young man I talked to said. They planned to winter there, and they left early because the winter's going to be hard this year." 

"Who chieftain still? Chief Imrek still live?" 

"Aye, I believe it was one of his grandsons I talked to," the guardsman mumbled. "I think the old fellow's still in charge...fine horseman, that Sheikah..." 

"I thank you," Impa said, putting a fist to her chest and giving a shallow, short bow, a Sheikah gesture of appreciation. "[Come, my sons.]" 

"[Is that what you needed to know?]" Link asked once they were out of earshot. 

"[It is. My people would go to the River Barrens often during the coldest winters--they must be expecting one this year. The bison range there during that time, and the hunting and fishing is good. It is a place much like Gerudo Valley, only flatter--and barren of all but plainsgrass, which can survive even the coldest winter and is good fodder for horses and bison. If our mission isn't accomplished by the time the snows begin to fall, we'll stay the winter with my family.]" 

"[When do we set out?]" Zelda asked. 

"[We'll waste no time,]" Impa replied. Even the normally stoic Sheikah warrior seemed barely able to contain her excitement. "[We go tomorrow!]" 

The journey south between the rivers was pleasant, the sun not to hot and the wind not too cold, as befits early fall in the south. Impa warned them, however, that this nice weather wouldn't last--winters in the south were bitter and vicious, and the inexperienced often lost their lives. 

In the two days it took to move along the southern branch of the river, Impa explained that they were going to _ar Shem dol Te Traksha_, "the Place of Two Pillars", where her people typically built their rafts to journey down the southward waters. The craft she described were large enough to ferry the people's horses and families on a cramped but rapid trip downstream. She believed that there might be a raft left over from a previous group that they could use. 

Link and Zelda were amazed at the two giant limestone pillars that stood beside the river, one on each side. The bases were at least twenty feet in diameter and stretched sixty feet into the sky, narrowing to an eroded point. The Sheikah believed that these had once been the base of a great river coliseum, made by a people long past. These two remaining pillars bore the carvings and initials of travelers seeking to make their marks, but far above the reach of passersby were two triforce insignia that looked to have been carved by a professional with tools. 

There was no raft left for them to use, but by a stroke of luck, there was the remains of one, its pegs and bindings shattered and broken, leaving it just a pile of pre-cut logs. The rest of the day was spent putting the large craft back together. 

The next day, the sky had boiled up with thick, black clouds and rain that grew heavier by the minute. The travelers lashed their packs to the raft, brought the horses aboard, and pushed off with their poles and paddles. The river was swift but smooth, carrying them much faster than horseback, but the sky continued to darken. 

"It's the end of the pleasant weather," Impa announced. "The autumn storms will begin in earnest soon." 

"Will we make it before then?" Zelda asked. 

"We should. We're late, but the river is swift." 

They traveled in this manner for a day and a half, camping at night on the riverbank, with the weather growing worse all the while. In the afternoon, the sky was black and the rain thick with sleet and freezing. The river was growing flooded and unruly. 

"We'll have to turn to shore if this gets any worse!" Impa shouted over the wind, striving to keep her balance on the churning raft. 

"Can we even do that?" Link shouted back, barely able to draw his paddle through the roiling water. 

"Let's try to make it as far as we can!" Zelda called from the front of the raft. 

Navi, graciously not sitting on Link's head, hid herself in the packs, hanging on to the ties to keep from being blown away. 

Impa suddenly stopped paddling, staring hard into the gray blackness ahead, listening. "The _sla kay nor!_" she cried. "The small white water! The flooding has made it dangerous!" 

Amid a sudden flash of lightning they could see ahead rough, foaming whitewater, exacerbated by the rains and flood. They hit the first rapid before they could do anything. 

"Hang on!" Link yelled to Zelda, dropping his paddle and gripping the raftwood. She did the same, and Impa clutched the pack ropes. 

Going over several more massive waves, Link noticed an ominous creaking, groaning sound. He looked in the direction of the noise just in time to see some of the raft logs break loose, and one of the struggling horses splash into the dark river. 

"_Epona!_" Casting aside all caution, Link plunged in after his beloved steed. 

"Link! _No!_" Impa screamed out in her fear for him. 

But she and Zelda could not do much more, for the part of the raft they now clung to was breaking up as well. "Impa! It's coming apart!" Zelda cried. 

"Get the packs on the horses!" Impa ordered, she and the princess tripping and scrambling to cinch the saddlebags back on the remaining horses to keep from losing their supplies. Navi, deprived of her perch, clung to Zelda's loose, streaming hair. The two women clung to the horses' necks, not mounting, as the raft came to pieces beneath them, dropping them into the dark water.   
  
_To Be Continued..._


	5. River Rescue

((LEGAL STUFF: Link, Zelda, Impa, and the other game-based characters are property and copyrights of Nintendo. No infringement intended. No profit made--these stories are purely for reader enjoyment. The new characters introduced here are mine, purely fictional--do not use them without my permission! Any similarities to events and persons in reality or other peoples' stories are purely coincidental. Thank you for your patience.)) 

  
  
**The Legend of Zelda: Journey to the Past**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
  
**Chapter 5: River Rescue**

Link caught hold of Epona's bridle rope as he went in after his horse. The raging water caught and dragged him, pulling him under and throwing him up. Hand over hand, he pulled himself to Epona, barely avoiding the panicked mare's thrashing legs. Clinging to her soaked mane, he tried to calm her, but she was fearfully and determinedly swimming forward, wherever the river might take them, in search of the shore. 

The river buffeted him and Epona, forcing them over boulders and slamming them into logs. The blackness of the storm made it impossible to see the obstacles and brace or avoid them, so they suffered the full brunt of the abuse. Choking on the water that barely allowed him breath, Link managed to hang on to Epona's mane and rope until something with the force of the Megaton Hammer struck him in the shoulder, breaking his hold. 

Caught against the object, Link felt the rope still in his hand jerk taut, strain, and he was pulled back into the flow. He struggled to the surface, coughing, trying to pull himself to Epona's side again. The rope felt strangely slack, and when he found the other end, it was frayed and snapped. "Epona!" he managed to choke before the water sucked him under again. 

Impa kept a firm hold on her gelding's mane, swimming alongside the horse, heading for the bank. Zelda could barely be seen through the rain during the intermittent flashes of lightning, forging for the shore clinging to her own mare. 

Impa felt her horse trip and catch footing on the riverbed, finally in shallow enough water to stand. She let Cloud drag her to shore, soon catching up to her sworn ward. "Are you all right?" she asked the princess. 

"I'm fine. Where's Link?" Zelda replied, raising her voice to be heard over the wind. 

"I'm going to find out." The Sheikah handed Cloud's reins to Zelda and turned back to search the river. 

Navi, relinquishing her place clinging to Zelda's hair, zipped out over the water, her blue-white glow lighting the churning waves. Loudly squeaking her anguish in the fairy tongue, she streaked from place to place, upstream, downstream, searching constantly. "I can't find him!" she cried, coming to flit about Zelda's head. "I can't see him anywhere! Oh, Link!" The fairy lapsed back into shrill utterances in her own language, beside herself with sadness and fear. 

Impa was at nearly the same state, though she tried not to show it. However, Zelda could read her grief in every movement made. Pelting downstream on foot, the Sheikah frantically searched the waters, but no sign of the Hero could be found. At last, she gave up, soaked and muddy, bruised and scratched. 

Even through the rain, Zelda could see the tears on her mentor's face, and could almost feel her agony as she fell to her knees beside the river. "Link...oh, Link..." she moaned, then lost herself, using her native tongue. "[My son...]" 

Link began to be aware of certain sensations: The light, fine drizzle of rain on his face; the grayish light of a cloudy morning shining through his eyelids; the sharpness of the rocks against his back and the ripple of water against his legs; the coolness of the breeze; the _clomp-scritch_ of shod horse hoofbeats on loose rock; the _scratch-grind_ of booted feet on stone; the voices... 

_Voices?_

Link found himself unable to do more than stir and groan as the voices came into focus. "...ye oot o' yer mind, lad? He's Sheikah. Yer father'd break th' willa switch o'er yer backsoide." The voice was a man's, but rough, older, lanced with a thick brogue. 

"Come on, Bryant. He's harmless. The poor chap can't even raise his head." That voice was male, though younger and smoother, with a proper, lilting accent. 

"But he's Sheikah, lad!" 

Link felt kind but firm fingers pull his turban and mask away from his face, still unable to move. 

"Look at this, Bryant. Look at his face. He's no more Sheikah than I am. He must be a traveler in disguise. We're obligated to help our fellow Hylians, right?" 

"As ye say, lad, but..." 

Link couldn't move to resist when strong hands lifted him from the river, carrying him away from the cold water. He could barely stir as he was placed on horseback and a thick, leather-shirted form mounted up behind him, steadying him. Unwillingly, as the horses began their bouncing movement, he felt himself drawn back into the blackness he'd just so recently left. 

Impa seemed numb as she and Zelda rode into the River Barrens with the light of day. Zelda had not said anything to her since their loss of Link, but she could tell that the Sheikah woman was heartbroken, though doing her best not to show it--she still felt honor-bound to protect the princess first. 

Poor little Navi had barely made a sound, but Zelda could still hear her quietly crying beneath her turban. The tiny fairy was still distraught from losing her best friend. 

Ahead of her, Impa reined her horse to a halt. Zelda came up beside. "What is it...?" 

Impa raised a hand sharply. "We are already discovered," she whispered. Raising her voice, she called out in Sheikah. "[Come out! We mean no harm.]" 

Zelda gasped when no less than a dozen figures seemed to melt out of the landscape, up from the ground and out from behind seemingly impossible bushes and rocks. They drew into a close circle around the two riders. 

Impa seemed to be searching the masked faces. Pausing her gaze over one man, whose silver-white hair peeked from beneath his turban, she smiled grimly. "[I greet you, Sunrise,]" she said. "[Perhaps you recognize me?]" 

The white-haired stranger held up a hand to his men. "[And why should I?]" His voice was rugged and low. 

"[I am Twilight, youngest and only daughter of Chieftain Nightfall.]" She pulled her turban completely off and made sure her mask was well away from her face. 

The man named Idon drew back his own mask, revealing a time-worn, weather-lined, leather-tanned face, set with bright ruby eyes and crowned with the same white hair as Impa's. "[I greet you, Twilight.]" He smiled. "[I welcome you home, little sister.]" 

When Link awoke again he had no idea how much time had passed. Suddenly, remembering the events of the raft and river, he frantically struggled upright, tossing blankets about and startling the room's other occupant. 

"Hey! Hey, settle down!" 

Link, recognizing the youthful, accented voice, managed to stop moving long enough to clear his head and his vision. He lay in a bed in a room that was ornate but functional. Coming towards him was a sight that made him blink in surprise. 

A young man, perhaps fifteen, was crossing the room quickly, his boots _clumping_ on the floor. What made Link stare was his slightly too-long, golden blond hair, his handsome, angular face, and striking blue eyes. It was a face that reminded him spookily of a mirror. 

The young man came up beside him but then drew to a halt with a sudden intake of breath when they made eye contact. "Sweet Golden Power!" he hissed. "Of all the fools in the land--! Bryant was right. You _are_ Sheikah!" He turned to hurry away. 

"Wait!" Link pawed his way out of the bed, dressed only in a white nightrobe. "Wait, please!" 

The youth turned to him. "You--you speak the King's Hylian!" he breathed, almost surprised. "Oddly, but well. And your face..." He cocked his head. "You are a puzzle, aren't you?" 

Link relaxed a notch. This boy was fearful of him but curious, his naivete making him eager despite the obvious taboo of associating with Sheikah. "Can you tell me what happened? I fell off a raft...lost my horse..." 

"We pulled you off the riverbank, out like a light," the young man responded. He looked at Link sharply, his gaze calculating. "_Are_ you Sheikah?" 

"No," Link answered quickly, then shrugged self-consciously. "Well, I'm half Sheikah, anyway." 

The youth's face lit a little. "Oh, really! That's quite an odd--ah, never mind. I'll see that you get your clothes and gear back." 

"Thank you," Link said. "I really appreciate you helping me out back there." 

"No trouble at all, my friend," the young man replied. "Though there might be a spot of it once my father finds out what I've brought in. He has no love for the Sheikah, that's for sure." 

"Why not?" 

"They've been raiding, stealing, killing, and plundering our country for about seventeen years now," the youth responded. "They've come to be known as savages and killers. I've met some." He shuddered. "And it's not an experience I'd like to repeat--no offense, though." 

"None taken," Link said. "I wasn't raised among the Sheikah and I don't know all that much about them." It was only a half-truth, Link reasoned to himself; Impa hadn't taught him _too_ much. 

"You don't say!" The young man appeared very interested, but shook himself. "I say, we haven't even had proper introductions, and already we're talking like friends! My name's Jared." He shook Link's hand heartily. 

"I'm Link. I come from the north, actually." 

"Fascinating! So that explains your odd speech. You'll have to tell me--" A knock on the door interrupted Jared's sentence. "Ah! That'll be your things, just up from being dried. Don't worry, we didn't paw through your belongings." He opened the door and took a satchel from someone outside. Closing the door, he turned to Link, who pounced on the bundle. 

"My bow! My knife!" Everything was there, even the things that had been on his belt. His clothes had been washed and dried. 

"I'll wait right outside your door," Jared said, stepping out. "If you'll dress, I'll see you to the main hall shortly." 

It was only five minutes until Link opened the door, feeling confident once again, dressed and with his equipment back on his belt and his bow back over his shoulder. Jared greeted him and led him down the ornate hallway and to some stairs. 

"What is this place?" Link asked as they walked. 

"This is my family home," Jared replied. "Leonine Castle, it's called. Quite a grand place, I'm told, if you're not used to it. I live here with my father and my older brother Leo. We're just north of the Daneed River. I hear the Sheikah call it _'Haucha'_." 

"How long was I asleep?" Link asked. 

"You slept for the rest of the day while Bryant and I rode home with you. Then you've been here for a night and a day. It's just after sunset, now." 

"Wow." 

"I know how disorienting that is," Jared commented. "Leo and I were sparring in the courtyard with wooden swords--back when we were ten and twelve--and he knocked me a good one in the temple. Put me out for two days." He laughed at the memory. "Leo's my brother. I think he's about your age, but much taller." 

Link gave a half-smile. Jared, just about fifteen, was only a scant inch shorter than he was. Part of his Sheikah heritage meant being short, slim, and wiry. Never quite as tall as his pure Hylian peers. "Is your father the ruler here?" 

"I guess you could call him that," Jared responded, looking thoughtful. "He's what you'd call in the north a lord, or a baron. Down here he's known as the Duke. Here we are!" 

An orderly at the door pulled himself to attention as the two youths passed through the high, arched doorway and entered a grand and rustic hall, at one end a massive fireplace and at the other a long, oaken table. The flagstone floor was covered by soft, intricately woven rugs, and the walls were decorated with swords and trophies of the hunt. A few suits of armor stood in corners. 

The orderly announced them. "His young Lordship Jared of Leonine and..." He glanced down his nose at Link, looking disdainful. "...and companion." 

From the far side of the room, at a desk near the fireplace, a golden-haired head rose from the papers being studied. A tall, well-built man rose from his chair, his face care-worn with lines marking him in his late thirties. His golden-blond hair was just slightly too long, slightly rebellious, matching in color his short, trim beard. His face was angular, his eyes blue, and his whole countenance hauntingly familiar. 

"My son," he greeted with a glance at his boy, his voice deep, kindly, a trifle firm, and bearing the same accent that marked his son's. "So; this is the Sheikah man my son brought in from the riverside." 

Link etched a deep bow, feeling profoundly respectful of this man, yet at the same time oddly afraid. The remarkable resemblance between the lord and his son was amazing, and yet the strangely familiar faces they bore made him ill-at-ease. "Your Lordship, er, Your Excellency..." He cleared his throat, unsure of how to proceed. "I, uh, thank you for your generosity, sir." 

The man smiled, something oddly melancholy about him. "You have the eyes of a Sheikah, my boy, yet you do not have the face of one. Something about you says 'Hylian'. If I'm not mistaken, you're a halfling, are you not?" 

Link was taken by surprise by the term. "I...suppose you could say that, sir. My name is Link. I'm from the north." 

The man nodded. "I'm pleased to meet you. As the proprietor of these lands, I welcome you to my home. I am Duke Lyon of Leonine." 

Link felt all the air forced out of his lungs in a single whoosh, struggling to control the iron fist about his ribs. The sensation caused his heart to pound through his chest as he stared at the tall man, barely able to hide his shock, his legs growing weak beneath him. 

Duke _Lyon?_

_His father!_   
  
_To Be Continued..._


	6. Father's Pride

((LEGAL STUFF: Link, Zelda, Impa, and the other game-based characters are property and copyrights of Nintendo. No infringement intended. No profit made--these stories are purely for reader enjoyment. The new characters introduced here are mine, purely fictional--do not use them without my permission! Any similarities to events and persons in reality or other peoples' stories are purely coincidental. Thank you for your patience.)) 

  
  
**The Legend of Zelda: Journey to the Past**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
  
**Chapter 6: Father's Pride**

Impa and Zelda followed their Sheikah guide into the tribe's well-hidden encampment as the sun moved below the western horizon, marking the end of their second day in the company of the Sheikah scouting party. Idon, eldest son of the Chieftain and thus the "Crown Prince" of his people, had been leading a scouting/raiding group along the river looking for any siezable supplies that might help his half-starving people. His discovery of Impa and her diminutive companion had short-circuited his trip, as he had turned his men right around and escorted his youngest sister to their present "home." 

The group left their horses at the edge of the encampment with some handlers. The tribe was stationed among some low, wind-eroded sandstone boulders several miles from the river. Their sand-colored tents matched the hues of the rocks perfectly, and everyone was silent in their work. Even the children played very quietly, and the whole "village" was filled with an air of tension. No woodsmoke could be smelled, no flags were displayed. It was as if the entire encampment were in hiding. 

Their honor guard departed at the edges of the camp, presumably to return to their sentry posts. Idon, however, led the two women on, deeper into the camp, to the large central tent pitched between two of the biggest boulders. Inside, it was warmly lit with oil lamps and a small wood-burning iron heater. The Barrens were cold at night as winter approached. 

At the head of the tent sat a tall, strong-built, imposing man, with red eyes and hair that had once been white but was shading to silver. At his side sat four other men, all white-haired, ranging in age from thirty to forty, by appearance. Other important members of the tribe sat in a semicircle on either side. 

Idon stopped before the Sheikah chief. "[Headman Nightfall, I bring guests from afar. I think you may know one of them.]" The Sheikah gave a wry smile. 

Impa stood forward, tears in her eyes. "[Father.]" 

"[Twilight?]" Imrek rose slowly in disbelief. "[My child...]" 

They embraced, father and daughter, separated for seventeen years. The four other Sheikah men pressed close, murmuring, gathering in the group hug of a reunited family. The other tribesmen muttered in astonishment. Zelda stood back, surprised, realizing that the four white-haired men were her many brothers that Impa had briefly spoken of in the past. Idon leaned over to her, already having given his greetings. 

"[They are glad to see her,]" he commented. 

"[You have a gift for understatement, Sunrise,]" Zelda replied. 

"[She was baby sister to us all,]" Idon said. "[She was a child of light and happiness, despite her name. She brought joy to my father, she being his youngest child and only daughter.]" 

"[You are named Sunrise, the eldest, and she is Twilight, the youngest. Are the others named for times of day as well?]" 

Idon laughed. "[You are sharp, little fellow. I am Sunrise; next is Morningstar, then Noonsun, then Daylight, then Sunset. Father thought that Sunset would be the last, but Mother surprised him with a daughter. However...]" The Sheikah's face grew sad. "[...Mother died birthing her. Her name is Twilight for more than one reason.]" 

"[I see.]" 

Suddenly Impa was calling her over. "[This is my greatest friend and companion, Shadow,]" she announced to her family, putting a companionary hand on Zelda's shoulder. She lowered her voice to speak to her circle of family. "[Father, if you would send the others out...I have important things to tell you.]" 

Imrek nodded, no questions asked, then waved his hand at the attending tribesmen. "[Begone, my friends. It is time for only my family.]" 

Obediently, the others left. 

"[Come, come, my child,]" Imrek said warmly, leading them through a flap in the rear and into a cozy, smaller area of the tent. It was furnished with low cushions and buffalo pelts, lit with the same oil lamps. "[Sit; my home is yours, daughter, you and your friend.]" 

They sat, Zelda, Impa, and the Sheikah family, comfortably arrayed on the furs and pillows. All but Impa, Zelda, and Idon had removed their outer clothes and wore soft wool robes suitable for relaxing indoors. All but Zelda had removed their turbans and masks. "Sheik" still bore "his" disguise. 

Impa leaned forward to face her father and brothers. "[Father, I know the first thing you want to know is where I've been these past seventeen years, why I left, and why I stayed away so long.]" 

"[Indeed,]" Imrek replied. 

"[I've been living in the north, in Central Hyrule,]" Impa began. "[I took on a life-oath with the King of Hyrule, and have been serving him since he saved my life.]" 

"[So you've been a Hylian's lackey the past seventeen years?]" one of her brothers asked. 

Impa glared sharply. "[I'm honor-bound, Morningstar, and the family of the King has been as my family.]" 

"[Continue, Twilight,]" Imrek pressed gently. 

"[With my friend's permission, there is something for you to know that is for the knowledge of my family only.]" Impa gestured to Zelda, taking a certain red magic stone from a carefully sealed pouch. 

Zelda nodded, leaning forward so Impa could pass the stone over her forehead and activate the magical reversal. She removed her turban and mask, undoing the tight bun that hid her long, pale-blond locks from view. She shook out her long hair and opened her now-blue eyes. 

The Sheikah had already half-started from their chairs. "[What trickery is this?]" Idon exclaimed, startled to discover that the "little fellow" he'd spoken to was actually a young woman. 

"[This is Zelda,]" Impa explained, "[daughter of King Sardon of Hyrule, heir to his throne. She is coming with me on a mission of honor. My life-oath to her mother extends to her after the death of her parents at the hands of an evil man.]" 

Imrek sat back, appeased. "[What is this mission of honor you spoke of, my child? What could be so important as to risk the life of your oath-bearer by bringing her on such a perilous journey?]" 

Impa held her breath, gathering her strength to continue her confession. Once she felt steady enough to speak, she looked directly at her family. "[Father...I have a son.]" 

All of them drew back in surprise, exclamations of astonishment issuing from them. Zelda knew that Impa had been declared a warrior, not a wife, by her tribe, and that she wasn't supposed to have children. 

Imrek had said nothing during the entire exchange, only sat very still, staring straight at Impa. She looked almost desperate, as if begging forgiveness with her silent gaze. 

"[Is this the reason you have come?]" her father asked slowly, softly. 

"[And the reason I fled,]" Impa replied. "[The dishonor I suffered at the hands of the rogue Lyon resulted in fruit. I have been in Central Hyrule a little more than seventeen years to hide my dishonor. But my son wanted to know of his roots, so we came. And...]" She seemed to swallow hard. "[And I've lost him. He fell into the river with the last great storm; we searched, but the water carried him away, and...]" A single tear found its way down her cheek. "[And...I cannot find him, Father. I can't find my son.]" 

Imrek regarded her, his penetrating ruby eyes watching as his daughter strove not to weep before him. His disbelief seemed apparent by his stern, focused gaze. "[Lost in the river, you say? And your search yielded nothing?]" 

Zelda cleared her throat lightly. "[We tried, sir, but...]" 

Imrek bowed his head, eyes closed, thinking. After several minutes he looked up again. "[Sunrise. Recall the tribesmen. Have them prepare to search the length and breadth of the River Haucha. The rest of you, go. Your sister and I shall have words.]" 

Obediently, the brothers rose and filed out, not questioning their father's command. Zelda stood as well and began to wind up her disguise again, passing the ruby stone over her own eyes to restore the red color. She looked to Impa questioningly and received a nod in return, so she reluctantly followed the brothers out. 

Impa turned clear eyes to her father, ready and expecting whatever stern reprimand he decided to give. But his face was kind and gently smiling, and what he said surprised her. 

"[My child, you are home. Come to me, and tell your dear old Papa all that's happened to you.]" 

Tears welled behind her eyes as his gentle tone reminded her of all the times she had run to her beloved father for comfort and support. It had been a long time...far too long since she'd felt her father's warm embrace, his firm hand on her shoulder to reassure her. With a grateful smile, Impa moved forward and sat on the warm buffalo hide at the feet of her father. And she told him everything. 

Link leaned further back against the soft haystack and sighed. He liked the stables here; they were clean and well-kept, full of horsey-type noises and smells--like manure, molasses, and fresh hay. Soothing sounds and scents that helped relax him. A mother dove had a little nest on a rafter just at the edge of his line of sight, and she regarded him with one shiny black eye. It was dim in the hayloft where he sat, but not too dark. A good hiding place. 

_Hiding?_ Link sighed again, this time in exasperation with himself. Yes, he had to admit he was hiding. The rest of the interview with Duke Lyon was a muggy blur in his memory; he had barely heard the man over the pounding in his ears, and there had been such a rush of icy cold through his veins that he thought his legs wouldn't support him. His mouth had filled with cotton and his tongue had gone numb, and all he'd managed to do was mumble his way through the pleasantries and give by-habit, rote answers to whatever Lyon asked him. 

Lyon had seemed brusque at first, but after it was established that Link was not really connected to the Sheikah other than by his mother's blood, he had been more pleasant. Link had gotten the impression that this man harbored great dislike for the Sheikah, especially by the way he seemed to spit the name out whenever he said it. Link had slowly grown more and more fearful and distressed when he recalled what kind of clothes he was wearing, his appearance, and his bloodline. It became impossible for him to gather the wits to tell the Duke his true reason for coming to the South, so when they were excused he'd followed Jared dumbly out of the hall, then asked to be excused for some air. Jared had shown him to the door and he'd stumbled outside. After finding the inviting door of the stables, he'd ducked inside and tried to find a place to think. 

Link sighed again and ran a hand through his hair, then paused, pulling a few of the golden locks forward in his fingers to look at them. Bright yellow-blond, like fine, soft wires spun of gold, it flashed when he was in the sun and glittered dully when he was in dim light. Just like Jared's; just like that of the noble Duke who still sat within the great hall. To say nothing of the rest of his features. 

_Why didn't I make some sort of connection the moment I saw Jared?_ Link wondered to himself, feeling tired and withdrawn. _Or when I saw his resemblance to Lyon? The two of them, father and son; they look so much alike it's uncanny--and **I** look so much like them it's just plain creepy. So much the same...and yet we're perfect strangers. I came all this way, left everything I knew, lost Epona, Zelda, and everyone...just to wash up on my father's doorstep and find out that he hates me...before he even knows who I am. I found him without even trying; somehow I thought it'd be harder to find him. And when I did...I thought we'd have some kind of...**bond**, or something. Trevor and Kelvin used to talk about their dads... Maybe...what if he's not...?_

Breifly, Link wondered if some other man named Lyon was truly his sire, but an image of the Duke's all-too-identical features flashed through his mind and laid any doubts to rest. _If that whole Time snafu had chucked me ahead twenty years instead of seven, that would be me,_ he marveled. Then another thought struck him. _Why didn't Lyon and Jared recognize **me?** Shouldn't they have noticed how much I look like them?_

"Wait just a minute..." he mumbled. "The _eyes_." Link smacked himself on the forehead and groaned. _I should have caught a clue the moment Jared shied away from me! The Sheikah are their mortal enemies. Lyon can't see a son in a red-eyed man--he **won't** see me. It'll never enter his mind--the idea that a Sheikah could be his--_

Link leaned suddenly up from the haystack to sit cross-legged, his elbows resting on his knees as his hands drew into fists. "I can't tell them," he whispered. What would happen if a red-eyed youth stood before Duke Lyon and claimed to be his son? Pure disaster, he was sure. The Sheikah were hated and feared here--and right now he was as good as one of them. No one would believe him--worse, they would scorn and revile him worse than they had already. He'd seen the disguised glances, the haughty disdain, the muffled whispering as he'd gone with Jared through the halls. He knew of whom they were thinking, and what they were probably thinking of him. Lyon--the leader of these people, at war with the Sheikah--who hated the Sheikah more than anything, would probably kill him the moment the words, "You're my father," were out of his mouth. 

_I can't tell him--I can't tell anyone--not while I'm stuck like this... Oh, Impa, where could you be? I've found my father and I want to tell him who I am, but I can't because...because of who __you_ are. I'm so confused. How could a man who hates Sheikah so much have cared anything for you? He _left_ you--and me--so he obviously doesn't care at all for Sheikah. Or **half-breeds**. 

Link's fists tighened as he fought back the sudden and unmanly tears that welled hot in his eyes. He was uncertain of how to proceed--this was different than anything he'd ever tried to tackle. Here he wasn't the Hero; there was no great enemy to fight. To everyone here, he was just an ordinary youth--and a half-_Sheikah_ youth, at that. He felt trapped and alone, wishing fervently he'd never, ever come on this stupid journey. _Why did I come here? Zelda told me it wasn't a good idea. I should've heeded her. Impa... Impa, you warned me...you **knew** this would happen. I should've listened to you. I'm so lost...I wish you were here. I need you...Mother..._

Link no longer fought the tears that slowly trickled down his cheeks. He rested his face in his hands and softly cried, no longer caring how unmanly or foolish he appeared. It was still too soon after the Temple of Time for him to be fully--emotionally--an adult. After all...somewhere deep down inside his heart...wasn't he still just a ten-year-old little boy?   
  
_To Be Continued..._


	7. A Home or a Prison?

((LEGAL STUFF: Link, Zelda, Impa, and the other game-based characters are property and copyrights of Nintendo. No infringement intended. No profit made--these stories are purely for reader enjoyment. The new characters introduced here are mine, purely fictional--do not use them without my permission! Any similarities to events and persons in reality or other peoples' stories are purely coincidental. Thank you for your patience.)) 

  
  
**The Legend of Zelda: Journey to the Past**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
  
**Chapter 7: A Home Or A Prison?**

Impa and Zelda looked up from their meal with Chieftain Imrek as Idon, dressed in full Sheikah travel garb, swept in the tent flap with a rush of air. "[Ah, my son, any news?]" the Sheikah chief asked as Impa and Zelda held their breaths in anticipation. 

"[Aye, Father, I have news,]" Idon replied solemnly. "[Traces of the boy were not hard to find--he left a good chunk of cloth on a waterlogged tree in the middle of the river at one point. And we found the place he washed up; the gravel bar just near the biggest spicebark grove--on the other side of the river.]" 

"[And the lad himself?]" 

"[I hardly dared cross, Father, with the water in such turbulence; but I did and found hoofprints and bootprints. I believe he was picked up by some of the Lion's men.]" 

Impa turned back to her father in confusion, her ruby eyes begging an answer. 

Chieftain Imrek sat back against his cushions with a frown. "[This does not bode well, my daughter. You know already that the Lion is our blood enemy; your son is now their prisoner, and I can't say what they might do to him.]" 

"[But...]" Impa struggled for hope. "[He speaks Hylian well, and he has not the manner of the Shadow-Folk, Papa.]" 

"[You used magic to turn his eyes red, Twilight,]" Imrek reminded her gently. "[Duke Lyon will not know him nor aknowledge him.]" 

Impa bowed her head, recalling her shock, disgust, and fear when told that her former lover, Lyon, was in truth not a rogue bandit but the young heir-apparent of the lands of Leonine. And now he was the ruler, the Duke, and her people's most hated enemy. _Link looks so like Lyon,_ she thought. _Lyon was such a good man--so kind--how can he be so cruel now...?_

She didn't want to recall her father's tales of the horrors inflicted on her people by Lyon's Hylian soldiers. Why there were so many dark-haired children among the tents, why so many women bore terrible scars, and why so many men were missing or maimed. 

"[I cannot give up hope,]" Impa insisted softly. "[He is my son.]" 

Imrek's features softened. "[My child, I feel your loss. He is blood of my blood, as well. Every effort will be made to ascertain whether he still lives, and to return him to you. But I cannot guerantee...my daughter, you know what has happened to others...]" 

Zelda was equally upset by this news, and rose to leave the tent. Secure in her disguise, she left the family alone with their discussions and hurried outside into the night, striving to keep her calm. It would do no good to break down when Link needed her. 

She wandered to the place where the goats were kept for the night, a place lit by a single dim torch. Several children--those who watched the goats--were playing _zanzel_, a game using pebbles and stones rather like marbles. They ceased their game at her approach, and stood up in a respectful line before her. They were common Sheikah children, with their dark-tanned skin and incongruously pale hair; pale hair ranging from light red to light orange, light tan to light yellow, even shades of pale pink or blue. All had red eyes, from deep crimson to bright ruby, almost magenta. A few darker-haired children could be seen, those with red, brown, or dark blond locks, showing their Hylian ancestry and standing out from the group. 

"[Don't stop on my account,]" Zelda said, bringing up her Sheik persona and roughening her voice. "[Please, I am only taking some air.]" 

The children giggled shyly and scattered, returning to their game or fleeing back to the tents. The oldest boy, a girl, and a little boy of about five stayed standing before her, obviously curious. 

"[Are you Shadow?]" one older boy asked. "[The great friend of the Chieftain's daughter?]" 

"[I am,]" replied Sheik with a smile. "[And what is your name?]" 

"[I am Arrow-Flight,]" repleid the boy, proudly despite his carrot-red Hylian hair. _Chekuko._

"[You are the goatherd here?]" Sheik asked gently. 

"[I am. I take care of all of these goats.]" The boy stuck his chest out a little. "[It's a big job, but I'm strong and tough. I do good so my older brother doesn't have to work hard. He lost his leg in the war, you know. The last time we had a big battle.]" 

Sheik hid his grimace. "[I am sorry.]" 

"[I'm Sand-Flower. My mother makes food for the Chieftain's family,]" the little girl, a pale-blond-haired wisp of a child, said shyly. _Ashula._ She spoke as if trying to assert her own importance to the tribe. "[I get milk from Arrow-Flight and take it to her so she can make bread and cheese.]" 

Sheik knealt down to her and she clung shyly to the little pale-haired boy, obviously her little brother. "[And what an important job you have, too,]" he said. "[My friend's family appreciates your mother's cooking. I just sampled some tonight, and it was delicious.]" 

"[Thank you. I'll tell Mama you said so.]" Ashula giggled and turned away shyly, taking her little brother with her. She picked up the leather cask near the pen, apparently the container of goat's milk, and trotted off into the camp. 

"[She's a nice girl,]" Chekuko commented with a childish shrug. "[But she's been a little odd since her papa died in the war. And her little brother never talks any more.]" 

Sheik abruptly yielded to Zelda as tears filled her eyes. The little boy spoke of war like it was a common fact of life. And it was; it was a war that had been going on for longer than this child had been alive. He was no more than twelve or thirteen--not that she was _that_ much older than him. But still...it was terrible he had to live this way. "[I'm sorry,]" she whispered. 

"[Aw, it's okay. My hold-father says they'll get over it as they grow. They're Shadow-Folk, so they're survivors.]" 

"[Hold-father?]" The actual Sheikah word Chekuko used was one of those usually reserved for stepchildren, a word literally meaning "mother's-husband parent," not a true "father." 

"[He's the one who taught me to take care of the goats, him and my brother,]" Chekuko said. He gestured guilelessly at his dark copper locks. "[My real father's a Hylian soldier. I don't know who he is but he must have been a strong man, because Mama says I'm too strong to be Hold-Father's son.]" He spoke so matter-of-factly it was as if he didn't care about the circumstances of his birth. He wasn't hesitant or shy about it at all. _Not like Link,_ Zelda mused. 

These little halfling children, the result of the cruelty inflicted upon these people during the war, were accepted without reservation into the Sheikah tribe; accepted as one of them. No question. Obviously, Chekuko's mother took great pains to make him secure in his heritage. And his "hold-father" was a kind and gracious man to accept his wife's illegitimate child into his family. 

_And Link was so worried about being accepted! These Sheikah would welcome him with open arms...if he were here. _

**If** he were here. 

Zelda felt tears welling again and pulled her mask closer to her face. She found no more relief out here than she had in Imrek's tent; her worry over Link would not go away. "[Forgive me, Arrow-Flight, but I must return to the tent...]" She turned to walk away. 

The little boy gazed after her sagely. "[Oh, I see. You've lost somebody in the war, too, huh?]" 

Zelda paused, glancing back. "[Yes. Yes, I have. Someone very important to me.]" 

"Jared! Hold up, my boy." 

Jared of Leonine pulled up short on the stairway at the rich tone of his father's voice. Turning, he gave a respectful nod of his head as the Duke of Leonine Castle came to stand at the foot of the steps. "Yes, Father?" 

"That Sheikah fellow you brought to see me--where is he?" Lyon asked. 

"He wanted some air, Father, so I took him outside. Diggins says he went into the stable. Seemed a little ill, to me..." 

Lyon's face took on a slightly harder shadow. "Why don't you go keep an eye on him? You know how Sheikah are about horses, son." 

Jared drew back, askance. "Father! He's our guest--" 

"I know that, Jared. Do as I say." 

"Yes, sir..." The young man unhappily trudged off towards the door, ignoring the bowing butlers and saluting guardsmen. 

A shadowy figure stepped out from behind the banister. "Is there a problem with the Sheikah man--the one your son should have told me about when he was brought in?" 

Lyon started around, then relaxed at the man's familiar features. "Ah! Captain Rishto, old friend, one of these days my old heart will give out like an overwrought spring when you sneak up on me!" 

Axe-faced Rishto, Captain of the Lion's Guard, gave a short, grim smile that reached only his mouth, never his eyes. Himself a good fifteen years older than the Duke, he gave a snort of hard amusement at Lyon's "old heart." Tall and lanky, with thin, grizzled, iron-gray hair and a dark goatee, Rishto looked every bit the battle-hardened leader of the Duke's home guard. "Do you share my suspicions of the Sheikah lad, Your Excellency?" 

"I might if I knew what those suspicions were, Rishto." 

"Perhaps he is a spy?" 

"Was that your first thought?" Lyon chuckled. "Seems a bit repetitious to me. As I recall you were accusing the forgesmith of--" 

"Doesn't it seem odd to you, sir?" Rishto interrupted evenly, earning an ignored look from his master. "A Sheikah lad supposedly washed up on the riverbank conveniently near where Sergeant Bryant was taking your youngest son hunting? You know as well as I do no Sheikah would test the Daneed's waters in this season. And what Sheikah in his right mind would have stayed willingly in this house? If he were a _true_ Sheikah captive, he would have killed your son and fled the castle at the first possible opportunity--unless he _wanted_ to stay." 

"True." Lyon's features flicked into a frown. "I value your advice, my friend. However, as sneaky as you might have been, I don't think you overheard the entire conversation. The lad is a halfling, and knows little about his mother's people. I've known enough Sheikah to know that his attitude and bearing are completely different. Why he's dressed as one is another matter, though...but I'd just as soon not assume the absolute worst about him. Sheikah or not, he's just a boy." 

"It's that boy's looks, isn't it Lyon?" Rishto's countenance darkened. "Don't be blinded by his resemblance to your youngest son. Keep your eyes on him--mark my words, he's up to something." With a short bow, the Captain of the Lion's Guard turned on his heel and strode away down the hall, not looking back. 

Lyon shook his head in confusion about his Captain's last comment; he'd noticed no similarity between Jared and Link. Shrugging to himself, he returned to his private desk to continue studying his strategical maps. 

Link was calming himself by currying one of the many beautuful horses in the stables of Leonine. His present subject, a small blood-bay gelding, stood half-asleep in his stall as Link worked him over. Most horses enjoyed the firm massage given by a proper currying-down, and this fellow was no exception. 

Link left his backpack, cloak, and most of his extra clothing paraphernalia--including hood, turban and mask--outside the stalls, near the steps leading to the loft where he'd sat to think. The stables were cool with the night air and well-lit by the various carefully-placed, glass-enclosed oil lamps. It hadn't been hard to locate the tackroom, in which were rows of polished saddles and bridles, bins of feed, and other well-kept equpment. Link was enjoying the work with the horses almost as much as they were. 

Only the rhythmic pounding of a horse's hooves alerted him to the approach of a rider, who pounded clear into the main hallway before dragging his gasping mount to a halt. Ducking behind the gelding's shoulders, Link peered over his withers to see a rider just dismounting from a gigantic gray horse--a horse that was currently worked to a lather and fighting his bridle. The rider jerked the bit in the horse's mouth and shouted for the stablehand. 

"Hey, boy! Terry! Where are you? Diggins--curse it all, where's everyone got to? _Diggins!_ There you are, Terry! Where've you been, you lazy brat?" 

"M'sorry, Excellency, sir, I been asleep--" 

The gray horse's rider cuffed the young boy about the head. "That's no excuse for leaving your master standing about with a sweaty horse! Now get to it!" 

The boy shied away from the rider's heavy hand and took the reins, leading the exhausted horse away down the hall to be cooled and groomed. 

The gray horse's rider pulled off his gloves and slapped them against his thigh, turning to leave the stable. It was at that moment that Link, shifting his weight, brought his boot down on the tail of a friendly barn cat that had come to sit near him during the time he'd held so still. The cat shrieked, the gelding reared, adjacent horses shied about, and Link jumped in several different directions at once trying to avoid the havoc. He clumsily ducked out the stall door to get away from the upset horse and promptly tripped on the bucket of brushes and combs he'd left outside the door. Link, the bucket, and pieces of equipment were scattered all over the floor. Link picked himself up out of the dirt, heart pounding, feeling like an utter clod. 

The entire situation might have been funny had it been between any two other people. 

Link found himself facing at a tall, black-haired young man about his own age, with blue eyes and a hard, aristocratic face with long, sloping features. He was dressed in a nobleman's riding uniform, trimmed with purple and gold. He was staring at Link with something akin to bewilderment, and had probably been doing so since the cat howled. He took in Link's features and garb, and his expression changed to shock, then recognition, then anger. 

"Sheikah!" the youth shouted, leaping at him suddenly. "Guards! Sheikah in the stable! Quick!" 

Link dodged the other youth's headlong rush, then jumped back out of the way when the young man drew a sword from the sheath at his back. He quickly fell over again, this time from backing into a wheelbarrow and tipping over with it. Not having anything to defend himself with and completely forgetting his unarmed combat training, Link scuttled backwards like a crab. Dodging another sword-swipe, he rolled sideways, finding the pitchfork that had been in the wheelbarrow--along with the manure. 

Now he had a weapon. Not using the tines, Link fended off the other youth's skillful sword-thrusts with the wooden end of the pitchfork. They danced about the hallway in a deadly whirl of combat, upsetting horses and sending the Cuccos roosted on the stalls fluttering and squawking in confusion. 

"Stop!" came a young, accented voice from the doorway. "Leo! Link! Stop it this instant!" 

Link was quite surprised when his dark-haired opponent was tackled by a smaller golden-haired figure. Drawing back, he realized that Jared had arrived and was attempting to clear up the mess. 

"Dammit, Jared, what are you doing?" the black-haired youth demanded, getting up from the ground and brushing disgustedly at his soiled clothing. "Don't tell me you _know_ this knave who is trying to steal our horses?" 

"He's not a knave, Leo!" Jared insisted hotly, looking at Link with something akin to admiration. "He's my guest. He fell into the river and got lost, so he's going to stay with us until he's found his way again." 

"This..._Sheikah?_" Leo spat. 

Link glared, eyes hard. So this was the heir to Leonine Castle, the eldest son of Lyon. Apparently just as mistrustful as the rest of them. "I don't want to be misunderstood," he stated softly. "I wasn't trying to steal the horses. I was grooming them. Look in the stall, there--you can see the brush I dropped, and the hair that's come off the horse." 

"A likely story," Leo grumbled, but glanced in the stall door anyway. 

"Father will tell you," Jared insisted, glaring stubbornly at his elder brother. 

"Fine, fine!" Leo sheathed his sword and turned to leave. "But don't ask _me_ to share a meal with that...that..._tribesman_." 

_The irony of it is that I'm not even really a "tribesman!"_ Link thought. After Leo was gone, he set the pitchfork against the wall near the upturned wheelbarrow. "Sorry about the mess, but he attacked me--" 

"Don't mind a thing," Jared insisted with a grin. "I suppose it's well past supper. Shall we go in? Oh, your clothes--I guess fighting in a stable is dirty work, eh?" He laughed shortly. "I can get you some clean ones, if you'd like." 

Link looked down at his manure-streaked Sheikah outfit, regretting how dirty he'd gotten the clothes Impa had made for him. He was reluctant to shed this last connection to his friends and family, but under the circumstances, perhaps it was for the best. Maybe if people didn't label him "Sheikah" on sight he might have some chance of fitting in here--at least until he found a lead as to Impa's whereabouts. "Sure, I'd appreciate it," he responded to Jared, picking up his pack and other clothes from where he'd left them. 

As he followed Jared in, he pondered his odd meeting with the dark-haired son of Lyon. _That's just weird. He looks nothing like Lyon. It's odd that Lyon could put so strong a stamp of his features on Jared and I, and yet leave Leo looking...perhaps like his mother? And his age--he seemed almost...older than me?_

A wave of fear swept over him as he realized the implications of that statement. For Leo to be older than him, it meant that Lyon would have already been married to his lady at the time of Link's conception. That made Lyon's dalliance with Impa not an indiscretion of youth but an adulterous affair! Horror of horrors--a double mark against him. Link paled, unnoticed by his young companion, as he realized how much deeper into trouble he was sinking. 

_Oh no, how much worse can this get? I'm in over my head--I want to go home!_ But he was already trapped--so he followed Jared in, down the bright entryway and to the stairs. The massive oaken doors closing behind him felt like the gates of a prison. 

But for Link, there was a far worse prison within the confines of his own mind, with the horrible realizations and revelations he'd been thrown into. Iron bars of regret, remorse, and self-loathing encompassed him. Chains of confusion and indecision weighed him down. Locks made of his own fear trapped him in his own carefully-hidden, secret dungeon. 

And from this prison there was no escape.   
  
_To Be Continued..._


	8. The Captain's Interrogation

((LEGAL STUFF: Link, Zelda, Impa, and the other game-based characters are property and copyrights of Nintendo. No infringement intended. No profit made--these stories are purely for reader enjoyment. The new characters introduced here are mine, purely fictional--do not use them without my permission! Any similarities to events and persons in reality or other peoples' stories are purely coincidental. Thank you for your patience.)) 

  
  
**The Legend of Zelda: Journey to the Past**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
  
**Chapter 8: The Captain's Interrogation**

Dinner at Leonine was delicious but short, with little conversation about the table. Link, dressed in his new Southern garb, kept mostly to himself as he sat at an honored place at Jared's right hand. Most interaction was in the form of "Please pass the..." or comments about the weather. Leo was conspicuously not present; evidently his promise to not share a meal with the "tribesman" had been truthful. 

Link decided he didn't particularly like the grizzled, iron-eyed man that sat across the table from him, the one that had been introduced as Lyon's Captain of the Guard, Rishto. The Captain ate his food with deliberate slowness, and spent much of his time glaring at Link. Link felt decidedly uncomfortable under the older man's piercing gaze; Rishto seemed to posess a sharp mind and was obviously hard at work trying to figure Link out. 

The meal was late, anyway, so when Link excused himself and all but fled from the hard, cold eyes of Captain Rishto, no one thought anything of it when he made his way back to the room he'd first awakened in. He'd also changed into his new clothes there before dinner; a loose white shirt with a forest green vest, black pants, and high, glossy black boots. With the new garb, he could have passed for a native, if not for his red eyes. He changed into his borrowed nightclothes and was preparing to go to sleep when there was a tentative knock at the door. 

Link paused just before reaching the candle. "Yes?" 

"Link? It's me, Jared." 

"Come in." 

The younger boy hesitantly pushed the door open, stepped inside, and closed it. He slowly walked over and sat beside Link on the bed. "Look, Link, I'm sorry for how my brother behaved today. He's...not good with strangers and...he hates Sheikah. Almost more than my father. They...ah...killed our mother...a long time ago." 

"It's not your fault. Don't apologize," Link told him. "I can't blame anyone for that. It's my own stupid fault..." He trailed off before he could say too much. _They killed Jared's mother...thank the Golden Powers **he** doesn't hate me, too. I wish I had that blasted eye-changing stone!_

"Whatever did you do?" Jared asked. "You didn't ask to be born a half-breed--oh, I'm sorry!" 

Link shrugged with a half smile. "Don't worry, don't worry. I guess I'd better get used to it." _Hm. "Half-breed." First time anyone's called me that. Funny--it stings more than I thought it would; more than "halfling." Maybe it's just me._

"I...just wanted to say I'm sorry." 

Link managed a soft smile for the lad. "Well, you've said it three times now. Do you think that's enough?" 

Jared chuckled ruefully. "I guess so...but only if you think so." 

"All right, I think so. I've forgiven you," Link announced mock-ceremoniously. "You may now continue your existence guilt free..." His voice grew ominous. "_...for now..._" 

Jared leaned over giggling, trying to keep his laughter inaudible to the butlers in the hall. 

"Just wait until next time!" Link continued in his whispered "pompous judge" imitation. "A single slip of the tongue, and down you shall go!" 

"You sound just like old Hanswort, the bailiff!" Jared chortled. "That man has such airs, and he's always snooting about with his frilly coat and velvet cap!" 

They both smothered laughter in their hands, Link feeling absurdly like a ten-year-old again, hiding with a sibling from prying parents to stay up and play. _So this is what I missed,_ he thought, watching Jared wipe mirthful tears from his blue eyes. _Growing up without a brother..._ The thought struck him clearly as he focused for the first time on his relationship to Jared. _He's my brother,_ he realized, wondering why that patent fact hadn't occurred so blatantly to him before now. _My little brother._

It didn't matter much to him that Jared was only his half-brother; Jared was a friendly, courageous, intelligent boy. Link did not mind at all being blood related to someone like him. Now _Leo_, on the other hand... Link suppressed a shudder. His _other_ half-brother was not so pleasant to be around. 

"You'd better be off," Link reminded the younger boy. "Your father might worry about me warping your fragile young mind or something like that." 

"He doesn't worry about me," Jared said with a shrug, rising off the bed. "In fact, he's the one who told me to come out to the stable and keep an eye on you--" The boy broke off, realizing how that had sounded. "I'm sorry! Gah, here I go again..." 

"I know," Link sighed. _Oh, yeah, the terrible Sheikah horse-thief loose in the stables._ "I know. It's okay. Good night, Jared." 

Jared gazed at him for a time. "Good night, Link," he said softly before slipping out the door. 

Link puffed out the candle and laid back, pulling his quilts up. _What is it about red eyes that makes all the difference? Are the actions of a few Sheikah used to taint the people's perceptions about the entire race? Does everyone in Leonine hate Sheikah? And if they do, where does that leave me?_

No solution readily presented itself, even as he pondered the slats of moonlight shining in his window. _I should just pack up tomorrow and leave...try and see if I can find Epona. Maybe she's okay; maybe she could hear my song. I should just go. I do wish... I wish I could tell Jared, at least...maybe. He might understand. Little brother, would you understand me...?_

Link turned his head sharply to one side, pressing his face against the soft linen of his pillow. _No; don't ruin his life. Jared's such an innocent boy...he doesn't need such a scandal laid on his conscience. Lyon has a happy family here, and an estate to run...he doesn't need half-breed bastard sons showing up on his doorstep and wrecking his reputation. What did I expect to find here? Welcome? A home? My home is in Central Hyrule--what stupid idea posessed me to come here? Lyon doesn't know or care about me, and it should stay that way. He's such a melancholy man...I don't think he'd even notice if I left. I wouldn't matter to him anyway._ Against his will, a tear slid to the pillow, making a tiny wet spot. _I wish things had been different. If my eyes...if my mother hadn't been...then, just maybe..._

The words came out before he even realized he'd said them aloud. "Father...I wish..." His voice failed but the words continued without sound, a tiny whisper in the night. 

"...I wish you would know me..." 

Impa and Zelda slept near each other in the tent of Impa's family. They were given soft, warm buffalo hides to bed in and cover with. Feeling warm and safe, they prepared for sleep, bedded comfortably. Impa sighed, home at last. 

Zelda turned over to face in Impa's direction. "The people here are wonderful," she whispered in Hylian, gazing blindly throught the darkness. 

"That they are." There was a rustle of hides as Impa shifted her weight. 

"Link was really worried about fitting in." 

"I don't think he needs to be concerned." 

"I know." There was a silence for a long time. "Do you think we'll ever find him?" 

"I hope so, Zelda. I hope so." 

The morning was cool, brisk, and fresh, and Link greeted it feeling much more calm and collected, rested and refreshed after the stressful events of the day before. In fact, he was able to face the staring, whispering cooks in the kitchen with a cheery smile and a bright "Good morning!" as he claimed the simple breakfast of an apple, bread, and milk. The head cook seemed itching to turn him away hungry, but word had spread like wildfire about young Jared's Sheikah houseguest, so they didn't dare refuse him. But they could still hate him. 

Link carried his meal outside to the top of the battlements of the great wall that surrounded the castle, outbuildings, gardens, and courtyard. He ignored the puzzled, suspicious looks from the watchmen. A cold, steady breeze raised goosebumps and ruffled his clothing as he perched on the stone rim, breathing deep the autumn air and giving a brief shiver as he noticed the gray clouds overhead, through which peeked only a few golden sunbeams. 

He bit into the shiny green apple, marveling briefly at its firm, tart flesh, quite different from the soft, sweet red apples in his own country. Its spicy flavor curled his tongue, and he took up a more comfortable position on the rim of the battlements, turning to face outward and survey the countryside. 

"Wow! What a view!" Link breathed, munching on the wheaty bread. Leonine Castle sat at the end of a great ridge, the foothills below and the greater mountains behind. Made of the same thick gray stone as the nearby giant boulders, the castle was almost a massive stone outcropping itself. He could see so far; through the foothills were the plains, the Daneed/Haucha River a silver thread passing across the fields. It was wonderful where he was, sitting atop the wall, breathing the fresh fall air, enjoying the view and the peace. 

"A beautiful vista, is it not?" 

The voice made Link start around, a thrill running through him as the quick motion upset his balance; thus startled, he had nearly teetered off the edge. "C-Captain Rishto!" He quickly dismounted from the stone rim, uncomfortable so near the precipice with Rishto around. "Um...yes, it is quite impressive." 

"The Duke's ancestors carved this place out of the stone of that mountain. They carried it here brick by brick," Rishto said conversationally, resting his elbows against the battlement and leaning on the stone. He didn't once glance at Link, but took in the scenery below. "It took years of work, and many men. Skilled craftsmen and strong builders, such as can only be found here in the rugged land of the Great Plain. Not like you Sheikah, living out in the Barrens in nothing more than rough tents." The man's voice remained pleasant and even, but the jibe was obvious. 

"I wouldn't know," Link responded darkly, leaning one elbow against the battlement. "I've never lived there." 

"Really, now." Rishto suddenly turned his gaze to Link. "You--a halfling Sheikah--you mean to tell me you never once set foot inside a Sheikah camp? Not even as a child?" 

"Maybe...before I was born. My mother went north before she had me," Link replied shortly, not feeling like speaking to Rishto and not liking where the conversation was going. 

"Ah, yes, your mother..." Rishto turned about to lean backwards against the stone. "Tell me about her." 

Link was not about to tell this man who his mother was, nor that he was the Sheikah Chieftain's grandson, so he remained silent. 

"I know for a fact no Sheikah woman marries without tribal permission," Rishto went on. "I'm also fairly certain that most Sheikah women aren't willing to seek a man of another race as a partner. I've actually never met a Sheikah half-breed, nor even heard of there being one born in the last two decades since the war began. That makes you something of an anomaly. So, then, about your mother: I'm curious. What kind of woman was she? Tell me--was she raped?" 

Link looked away from him, frowning fiercely. 

Rishto's voice suddenly turned cold and mocking. "Or did she _offer_ herself to a Hylian like a common prostitute?" 

Link jumped up from the wall, face flushing hot, hands fisted tight at his sides. Rigid as a taut bowstring, he glared with gritted teeth, jaw so tight he couldn't speak. He could only stand glaring at Rishto, trembling with shame and anger. 

Rishto rose from his resting place as well. "So that's how it is. Your mother took a Hylian lover. And probably fled her tribe in disgrace when she conceived. So what does that make you? Outcast? Mongrel?" He came close to Link, his face hard. "Hated by Hylian and Sheikah alike. No home anywhere. So you come here, preying on the mercies of the Duke's youngest, looking to beg a place for the winter. Then what happens in the spring? You grab anything of value within reach and move on again." 

"You..." Link managed to grit out. "Haven't you listened to anything I've said? I'm _not_ a thief!" 

"You're a Sheikah. It's the same thing." 

Link came within a hair of actually hitting him. "You know _nothing_ about me!" he asserted, his voice raised nearly to a shout. 

Rishto remained unmoved. "You're right. But I will." He stepped even closer, backing Link against the wall. "I'll figure you out, Sheikah boy. I'll learn everything--who you are, why you're here--and when I do..." 

Link swallowed hard, glaring, but unable to speak. 

Rishto's face could have been cut from stone. "When I do, half-breed, you'll wish your mother had never broken Sheikah law." His expression turned mocking and ironic. "Until then...enjoy your stay." 

With that, the Captain of the Lion's Guard turned on his heel and strode away without a glance backward. 

Link whirled to lean heavily against the battlements, quivering with anger. He remained there, resting his elbows against the cold stone, trying to cool his flaming emotions. He inhaled deeply, taking what seemed like the first clean breath since Rishto had arrived. His knees trembled beneath him, and his heart beat a loud rhythm in his chest. 

How he hated that man! He didn't think it was possible for him to dislike someone so much in the space of two days. He had made an enemy here--and it was someone for whom the feeling was mutual. 

He thumped his fist against the stone, teeth gritted. Impossible as it seemed, Rishto had managed to insult, shame, enrage, and frighten him, all within a single conversation. 

The morning was spoiled. Link savagely knocked what was left of his apple off the battlement, then gulped down his mug of milk to ease his dry throat. Leaving the mug sitting on the edge of the battlement, he stalked off, still hot with anger, in the direction of the stables, hoping to somehow calm himself. 

Jared was quite surprised when he came upon Link grooming horses in the stable once more. It seemed the Sheikah liked the animals. Happy to share a hobby with his guest, he stepped up behind Link to open a conversation but paused when he observed the half-Sheikah's hard, short curry strokes and cold, focused eyes. "I say, is something the matter?" 

When Link jumped around, he came close to knocking Jared over--and he would have, if the youth hadn't leaped back out of the stall by sheer instinct. The horse spooked, and all of them stood staring for a minute, getting their bearings. 

Link's shoulders slumped when he realized who it was. "Jared..." he sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm a little jumpy this morning." 

"I daresay you're a bit tense, my friend," Jared observed cautiously. "Did something upset you this morning?" 

Link turned back to continue brushing the horse. "A little something," he admitted. "But it doesn't matter." 

Jared could quite easily tell that Link wasn't going to say anything more about his troubles, so he decided a change of subject might help his companion. "Ah, Link...do you like horses?" 

Link paused, and suddenly turned to him with a grin. "_Do_ I? Are you kidding? I love horses." His bright smile reminded Jared of someone familiar, he couldn't quite recall who. 

"Then would you like to go for a bit of a ride?" Jared offered. "I could show you about the countryside, get your mind off whatever's bothering you--the outdoors is very good for that. We've got to get in what fun we can; winter's nearly here and we'll be cooped up in the castle for a very long time." 

"Your father would actually let me ride?" Link asked incredulously. 

Jared shrugged imperiously. "It isn't any of his business what I do with my guests." Now it was his turn to grin. "Come along and let's go to the tackroom."   
  
_To Be Continued..._


	9. A Walk in the Country

((LEGAL STUFF: Link, Zelda, Impa, and the other game-based characters are property and copyrights of Nintendo. No infringement intended. No profit made--these stories are purely for reader enjoyment. The new characters introduced here are mine, purely fictional--do not use them without my permission! Any similarities to events and persons in reality or other peoples' stories are purely coincidental. Thank you for your patience.)) 

  
  
**The Legend of Zelda: Journey to the Past**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
  
**Chapter 9: A Walk in the Country**

"Uh...what's this?" 

Jared paused in the process of cinching his horse's girth. Eyeing the object in question, he gave Link an odd look. "It's a bridle." 

"Oh." Link turned the collection of leather straps and metal buckles over in his hands. "It goes on the horse's head, I suppose. What does it do?" 

Jared grunted, pulling his horse's girth tight and buckling it firmly. "It guides the horse, of course. What else?" 

"I don't know," Link replied, wondering how he was going to get the jointed metal bar into the horse's mouth without a fight. "I've never used one." 

"Never used a bridle? I thought you said you rode horses all the time!" 

"I do. We just don't use these where I come from." 

Jared gaped at him. "You mean...you do all your riding with _no bridle?_" 

Link shrugged and handed the bridle over to Jared, figuring he'd know better how to apply it to the horse. "No bridles--and we don't have these 'irons' things for your feet, either. Just a saddle and handgrip. It frees up the hands for weapons." And the saddles he was used to were much larger and more square than the small, smooth ones that Jared said were used for "huntseat" riding or "dressage." He thought that was perhaps why those at Leonine used irons; maybe they would slide out of the saddles without them! 

"That's something I've _got_ to see! How in the world do you steer?" Jared asked, eyes brimming with excitement. 

"With the seat and legs," Link replied with an easy air. "The horses are trained for it. I don't think my mare would enjoy wearing a bridle." 

"I suppose she wouldn't, being used to having her head free." Jared easily slid his arm over the horse's head and slipped the bit into its mouth without so much as a twitch. He then fastened the leather straps over the horse's cheek and throat, passed the reins back to the saddle, and pulled the mane free. "There, he's done. You can ride Sturdy while you're here; he's the most easygoing horse we have." 

"Thanks." Link patted the stocky bay gelding's nose and was rewarded with an affectionate nudge. "You'll have to show me how to use this bridle properly." 

"Don't worry," Jared chuckled. He turned to his own horse, a jet-black stallion with a friendly temperament that was a bit on the smallish side compared to most of the horses in the Leonine stables. The Leonine horses were not quite as large as Epona, but they were beautiful animals, slim and athletic and probably much faster than Epona was. "Ready to mount up?" 

They led their horses out of the barn aisleway and into the courtyard. Workers, sculleryfolk, and various other menials paused in their labors to watch the younger lordling and his Sheikah companion mount their horses and head for the gates. 

"Make way! Make way!" shouted the gatesmen, who quickly turned back the massive, iron-bound wooden doors and cranked the metal porticullus up out of the way. They stood back and respectfully bowed as Jared and Link passed through. The horses' hooves clattered over the cobblestones as they danced in eagerness to adventure. 

For a little while, Link imagined what it might be like if they all knew he was their Duke's son, and he and Jared could ride out as brothers. Then it would not be just Jared that they bowed to, and their veiled stares of contempt would not sting him as they did now. But he only imagined it for a moment, because he knew it could never be. 

Impa leaned back against the linen pillow in the main audience tent and tried to hide a slight smile at the utterly astonished look on her elder brother's face. "[Come on, Sunset, show a little backbone,]" she chided, reminded of their younger days together. 

Idek, the youngest of her brothers, had always been her constant companion when they were children. Both of them shared a love of stealth and shadows, and had become some of the tribe's best trackers and huntsmen. Idek never took his responsibilities seriously, having always been the family clown, and his two sons were following in his footsteps. 

"[But...Father...]" Idek tried. 

"[Is it too hard for you, boastful one?]" Chieftain Imrek asked wryly from his buffalo-robed "throne" chair. "[A moment ago you were professing your unmatched skill, such that you could track a grass-hawk on a clouded day. Where is all your hot air now, Sunset?]" 

Idek pulled himself together somewhat. "[I'm good, Father, not suicidal. What idiot would cross the river in these days? To say nothing of the flooding, the Duke's men prowl the forests everywhere. To ask me this, when there is no safe place near the river...]" 

"[Very well, Father,]" Impa said, sitting up from her cushion. "[If my brother will not go, then I will.]" 

Both men looked at her, one with understanding, the other with surprise. "[B-but Twilight--it's too dangerous!]" Idek protested. "[That Hylian underdog has already done enough to you! I won't have him torment you again if his men catch you there.]" He turned to his father. "[Very well, I will go. I will take three of the best trackers with me and discern the boy's whereabouts. If I cannot free him with all stealth, if his life is not in danger I will wait for an opportunity. Sister, I will bring your son back to you.]" 

Impa said nothing as he exited the tent. When he was gone, she glanced at her father. "[Was it wise to let him do this for us?]" 

Imrek sighed. "[Sunset may not be the most comitted nor the most responsible warrior in our family, but he does love you, Twilight. As it was when you were young, he would still do anything for you. And he is, as he says often, the best at what he does. If anyone can find your son and bring him back, it is Sunset.]" 

Captain Rishto located Leo in the dining hall, where the young Duke-heir was hungrily gobbling some food, having skipped both dinner and breakfast to avoid the half-Sheikah interloper that monopolized his brother's time. 

"What are you doing sitting around in here?" Rishto demanded after sending the butlers out of the room. "Do you know where Jared is? I cannot find him anywhere." 

"Maybe it's because he went riding," Leo growled between mouthfuls. 

"Why aren't you with him? There's always the possibility of Sheikah--" 

"Am I my brother's keeper?" Leo asked mockingly. "It's not my job to babysit that whiner. And if the Sheikah grab him, so much the better. Besides, the half-breed went with him--that should be enough to keep him safe." 

"He went riding with Link?" Rishto gaped for a moment. "And why wasn't I told?" 

"It's not my responsibility to make sure your spies tell you everything," Leo responded with a shrug, shoveling another mouthful of stew. He smiled and blinked at Rishto innocently. "I'm just the clueless little heir-apparent, and if you get caught with all your spies and intrigue, I know absolutely nothing." His face turned into a coldly smiling replica of Rishto's usual calculating smirk. "In fact, I'd rather you did get caught, so I don't have to put up with your nagging and demands." 

"Watch your mouth, brat," Rishto barked, dragging Leo up from his chair by the shirtfront and shaking him. His tirade was just soft enough not to carry through the walls. "You owe me everything, do you hear? I'm the one who makes sure you get what you want, I'm the one who makes sure you get everything when the Duke finally dies--all of Leonine's piddly property, all the Hylian village-lords' lands, all the Sheikah territory--_everything!_ I'm the one who makes the whole design work. You'd be nothing but a whining brat without me!" 

Leo coolly disengaged Rishto's hands from his shirt and stood facing him. "You forget yourself, _Captain_. I think you should remember who holds what place in this castle. If I choose to finish this alone, I will do so. I only keep you around because you're doing all the dirty work that I don't want to bother with. You keep to your work, and I'll keep to mine." 

Rishto glared into the lordling's eyes, itching to strike him but not daring to damage the heir's face. "I should have killed your mother before she pushed you and the other whelp out," he growled. "I should have done this whole thing _my way_, instead of listening to her, and then you." He stepped back and looked angrily contemplative. "With the half-breed hanging about Jared all the time, things will get more difficult. I'll change my arrangements slightly, and inform my operatives to do the same. There'll be a battle--I'll make one--and hopefully the half-breed will be...'killed in the skirmish' somehow." 

"You may be annoying, but I like how you think," Leo commented, sitting back down to his meal. "I don't like him, either--he reminds me too much of Lyon. Do what you want with him, but be careful; Jared's quite taken with him." 

Without another word, Rishto stalked away, his mind on his plans and his face twisted into an odd, calculating smile. 

Link and Jared spent a very pleasant day out in the cool forest, exploring trails that Jared knew well, stopping for lunch beside a rushing creek and doing a lot of talking. As they ate smoked ham and sharp cheese, they shared about their love of horses and the woods. 

As it turned out, Jared's horse Obsidian had been a gift from his father when he was seven years old. Lyon had helped him raise and train the young black colt until it was a tremendous steed, totally devoted to Jared. Jared hoped someday his father might grant him the use of a mare, so he could raise and train more horses. He loved his stallion very much, and rode everywhere on him. 

Link talked of Epona, of how she was very like Obsidian in that she would allow no other to ride her, save her original owner Malon. He told Jared how she liked music, and would listen to him play on his ocarina during the long evenings of his quest. She would protect him and come when he called whenever she could. He told Jared how much he missed her. 

It was beginning to get dark by the time the two youths finished their long ride and turned to loop back to the castle. The quiet tones of their voices blended with the soft sounds of crickets and other evening denizens. 

It was about that time that Link thought he heard other voices. Pulling to a stop, he gestured for Jared to be quiet before the other boy could ask what was wrong. "I thought I heard something," he whispered softly, dismounting from Sturdy's broad back. "Where are we?" 

"A few miles from the Daneed river," Jared responded, climbing down as well. "This is the route Bryant and I took when we found you." 

"Jared, stay here." 

Feeling a start at those words, Jared opened his mouth to protest but was silenced by his companion's gesture. Link left Sturdy standing on the trail and ventured down the hill to the side, moving noiselessly through the brush. He became more certain when he neared the bottom of the hill, hearing men's voices speaking lowly. 

In the crease between two thickly treed ridges burned a tiny, smokeless fire, over which sizzled a small skinned animal, perhaps a rabbit. Nearby was a small burbling brook. Bedrolls were placed near the fire, and four men sat on them, conversing softly. 

Link got a little closer to hear what they were saying, and in the darkness finally recognized their clothing, and realized the words they were speaking were in Sheikah! 

"[...find him in this gods-forsaken country I'll never know,]" one said, his voice an angry-sounding growl. "[But it's the Chieftain's orders, after all. Why is he so concerned over one half-Hylian boy, eh, Sunset?]" 

"[He has good reason,]" said the one called Idek, though he did not stir. "[The boy is my sister's son, Hare-Runner. I have to find him for her. And my father didn't order me, either. I volunteered. The only orders given were the ones I gave to all of you.]" 

"[Pah--you're a fool, Sunset. Always have been,]" said another Sheikah. 

"[We're risking our lives and the safety of our whole tribe for one halfling boy who may not even still be alive,"] said the third. "[Why must we endanger our families for the sake of one person? If we are discovered, the Duke's wrath--]" 

"[It's a matter of honor,]" Idek replied sharply. "[I have sworn to myself on my family's honor to find him--and since the boy is of my blood it is doubly on my family's honor to see him returned.]" 

Link, hiding in the shadows, drew back from the gathering and retreated up the hill a ways. That man called Idek--his uncle, the Chieftain's son! Impa and her father were looking for him! A feeling of immense relief stole over him; Impa and Zelda were alive and safe with his mother's tribe. Perhaps even Epona was with them! He could walk down there into their campsite, introduce himself, and be taken to his mother and Zelda immediately. He could even get to them by morning, maybe, if the distance were not too far. 

He could get out of the castle, away from Rishto, and free of the hell he was living in there. 

But it meant leaving Jared, the only one who had been kind to him. And Rishto's eyes...when looking at Link and Jared and even Lyon...there was something wrong with those eyes. Something in Link didn't want to leave his little brother alone with that man. 

It also meant giving up any chance of being reconciled with his father. Sure, he'd met the man, shared a meal, and learned a little about him, but that left him empty, not able to know Lyon as a person--as father and son. Even if it meant Lyon's scorn, he wanted to know the Duke better. 

But sitting in that little valley was his ticket out. He could go home. 

_Home._

The meaning of that word was beginning to change for him. It was no longer a place--like the solitude of the Kokiri forest, or the homey comfort of Impa's house in Kakariko--it was the people he loved. Impa, Zelda, Saria...wherever they were, that would be home. 

And Jared... 

Against his will, he had come to care too much for his younger half-brother. He hadn't wanted to become so attached; his first day in Leonine he had promised himself to be ready to leave at a moment's notice. But Jared was such a sweet, friendly boy, a wonderful person--so kind and generous to a perfect stranger. In such a short time, he had come to regard Jared as a trusted friend...and brother. 

Which meant that with Jared there, he could see Leonine Castle becoming his home as well. 

Torn betwen two opposing pulls of love and family, Link sat in torment for a few moments. He could go with the Sheikah and be free of Rishto and the cruel stares and whispered comments of Leonine. He could remain with Jared and never have to risk surviving the cold, bitter winter out on the sparse Barrens with the Sheikah tribe. Either way, he gained and lost. Either way meant abandoning someone he cared about. 

Rishto's cold, predatory eyes floated before him again, mocking and cruel, and Link felt his ire rising in response. _Is leaving now running away?_ he wondered. _By going with the Sheikah, am I somehow letting Rishto win...letting him chase me away?_ That man had designs on something; something that might cost Jared and Lyon and even Leo. The Captain of the Lion's Guard was dangerous, and not just to Link. 

_Impa and Zelda are safe. I can risk staying with Jared a while longer. I can always leave and be found by these scouts. I don't want anything to happen to Jared..._

With one last long, reluctant look at the tiny campfire flickering dimly through the trees, Link turned back and headed up the hill, careful to remain soundless. 

"What was it?" Jared asked from atop Obsidian when Link returned. "You were gone a while--what did you find?" 

Link mounted Sturdy and reined the horse back in the direction of the castle. Wordlessly, he nudged the gelding to a walk, Jared close behind. 

"What did you see?" Jared asked eagerly. "What was it?" 

"Nothing," Link replied emotionlessly. "It was nothing."   
  
_To Be Continued..._


	10. Sheikah Shake-Up

((LEGAL STUFF: Link, Zelda, Impa, and the other game-based characters are property and copyrights of Nintendo. No infringement intended. No profit made--these stories are purely for reader enjoyment. The new characters introduced here are mine, purely fictional--do not use them without my permission! Any similarities to events and persons in reality or other peoples' stories are purely coincidental. Thank you for your patience.)) 

  
  
**The Legend of Zelda: Journey to the Past**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
  
**Chapter 10: Sheikah Shake-Up**

Two weeks passed. Link existed day-to-day, riding with Jared, eating meals with the family at a guest's place of honor, and ducking out of Rishto and Leo's way whenever he saw them coming. It felt cowardly, but it was the best way he knew of to avoid them. Being near them--even standing in the same room--brought chills to his spine from their cold, cordial hatred of him. They were the same; identical sets of gray-blue eyes glared at him with hard contempt and scorn whenever he was near. 

Lyon was a secretive, melancholy man who rarely seemed to spend time with either of his sons. Leo obviously didn't care a whit that Lyon paid no heed to him, but poor Jared was starved for attention. He wanted an older man to look up to, to be encouraged by, but he had that in no one, not his brother nor his father. The young Hylian latched on to Link like a lifeline after being left alone to entertain himself for so long, and was overjoyed to have Link as a companion. 

Link found himself acclimating to the culture of Leonine Castle. The new wardrobe became comfortable, the accented speech of the Southern Hylians less incomprehensible, and the food much more familiar. Some of the house servants began to lose their suspicious disdain and forced politeness over time, finding Link to be friendly, unassuming, and quite willing to lend a helping hand to any menial in need--whether chopping wood, carrying platters, or sweeping a room. 

"You're not like a Sheikah," was a phrase Link heard very often. He wanted to reply, "How many Sheikah have you ever known?" but he never did; he only shrugged and smiled and went on his way. 

Lyon remained distant, never once starting a conversation or approaching with any of them. He would respond politely to anyone who addressed him directly, but otherwise he remained aloof from everyone around him--save Rishto, with whom he had many private meetings. 

Link often wondered just what those meetings were about. 

"Really? You're not kidding? The trees are _that_ big?" Jared's eyes were round with wonder as he sat atop Obsidian, threading his way along the forested path behind Link. 

"They live in them," Link explained with a shrug, reining Sturdy around a low-hanging tree limb. "Of course, the Kokiri are small, like children, so they don't need as much space as an adult." He smiled a little to himself, remembering how he'd nearly cracked his head open on the door to his own treehouse home the first time he'd tried to enter it after his seven-year sleep. When he'd returned, everything had seemed so _small_; not even his own bed would fit him any more. 

"Three horses abreast on the normal stumps, eh?" Jared marveled. "Fallen logs such that a man can walk through them upright with his arms unable to touch the arch overhead--that's amazing! And the grand old tree you spoke of is even bigger." 

"Yes...until he--it died." Link carefully left out any mention of the recent occurrences in the North; he even hid his own connection with the Kokiri, for that would betray too much about his past and the secret of his heritage. "The Lost Woods is a beautiful, ancient place, full of old legends and fairy magic..." And he missed it very much. 

"You sound homesick," Jared observed, leaning forward in Obsidian's saddle. 

"I...I miss the North," Link replied simply, hunching his shoulders. 

Both youths were riding out on the longest ridgeline just west of Leonine Castle. The forests were old and thick here, causing Jared to remark upon them, which sparked a conversation about the great, ancient woods that surrounded Kokiri Forest in Link's homeland. It was a cloudy, blustery day; there had been thick frost in the morning and now the wind blew with bitter chill. Both Link and Jared had covered their usual comfortable riding attire with thick overcoats and heavy woolen cloaks, which they fought the wind to keep tight about themselves. The horses had long since grown shaggy with their winter coats, but still felt the frigid bite in the wind. 

"This is getting to be frightfully cold," Jared said with a shiver, pulling his cloak closer against the chill. 

"You must get some heavy winters here," Link responded. "It's hardly past autumn, and it's already brewing up a storm." 

"You may be more right than you realize, my friend. When we get out to the head of the ridge we'll be able to see what the wind is bringing us. I wouldn't be surprised if the first storms of winter were about to begin." 

Link merely nodded, and continued to lead the way up the hill. 

Coming around the head of the ridge, the youths discovered that the wind was much fiercer outside the cover of the trees. One of the Daneed's tributaries flowed in the ravine/valley between their ridge and the next, down the stony mountainside, mixing turbulent rapids with thundering falls. The side of the ridge they now stood upon was rocky and steep, not forested and gentle like the lee side. 

"It's quite a blow coming up!" Jared shouted over the wind and the water. He pointed westward over Obsidian's flaring mane. "Look at those clouds! We should head back!" 

"Right!" Link agreed. The leading edge of the ominous clouds had already overpassed them, with the mightiest, thickest ones still traveling slowly forward; in the distance they dumped their payload on the mountains to the west. He turned Sturdy to follow Jared back around the ridge and down to the castle when movement caught his eye--movement on the far, forested hillside on the other side of the noisy river below. Thunder began to crack, and in a moment he recognized the shapes hurrying through the trees as those of horses. Shading his eyes from the wind, he struggled to make out any riders or people as the animals passed through a clearing on the hillside. He saw no one, and concluded it must be a wild horse herd. 

He was about to turn away when he spotted a flash of red. His wind-stung eyes widened when he recognized, distantly, a familiar white-maned mare following the wild horses on their march towards shelter. "Epona!" he breathed. He looked up the trail to his half-brother. "Jared! Wait!" 

"What is it?" The younger boy halted his mount and turned in the saddle. 

"Look there on the hillside!" Link pointed straight out to the distant ridge. "See the red one? It's my horse!" 

Jared squinted through the biting wind. "Well, I'll be--! Are you sure it's yours?" he called over the rushing noise. 

A boom of thunder drowned out Link's reply, and Jared's stallion fidgeted nervously on the rocky trail. "We've got to go, Link!" Jared shouted. "It's going to be impossible to see in a few minutes, once that gets here!" 

"I have to call her!" Link yelled back. Putting two fingers to his mouth, he blew a three-note falling scale twice, as loud as he could--the first bars to Epona's Song, and her trained call. "_Epona!_" he shouted, then trilled the song again. He kicked himself for not having brought the Forest Ocarina that Saria had given him. 

The mare on the distant hillside paused, ears pricked, as though she'd heard something, but the wind and the thunder worked against Link, drowning out his voice and pushing his whistle back on him, not towards her. Finally, with a shake of her head, the red horse continued on, vanishing into the trees with the others. 

"Epona..." Link swallowed the lump in his throat. _This storm! She can't hear me from so far away! If only I'd had my ocarina!_ he thought, then gradually realized that Jared was calling to him. 

"We have to go, Link! That storm is almost here!" 

With one last look back, Link spurred Sturdy after Obsidian, and the two youths galloped back down the ridgeline. Jared looked supremely worried; what was most likely to come out of that cloud was freezing rain or sleet, neither of which made for safe riding conditions, especially as far out as they were. They'd be caught in the leading edge of the storm if they were unable to hurry back in time. 

The first storm of winter had begun. 

Freezing rain poured from the sky as Link and Jared approached the front gates of Leonine Castle. Their cloaks quicky became encrusted with it, and it stuck to the horses' hides and formed a silvery sheen on the landscape around them. Most of the ice shattered into fragments as the wind blew the trees into a whipping frenzy. 

"Make way!" Jared shouted as the pair approached the gates. They had to rein to a stop before the barred doorway, Jared shaking his fist at the sentries hiding away from the storm in their niches and in the towers. "Open the gates! Make way!" 

Indistinguishable shouts sounded from the towers above the gates, and slowly the iron porticullus raised and the huge doors swung outward. Jared and Link hurried in, running their horses all the way to the stable before dismounting. Stablehands scurried to take the blowing animals and warm them up. 

"I say, young lordship," the elderly Stablemaster Diggins said, approaching Jared. "I heard there was some commotion at the big house--something about a prisoner. I'm sure your father wants to be assured you're alright." 

"Yes," Jared agreed. "Can you handle the horses?" 

"Aye, sir." 

Link had frozen at the word "prisoner," his mind suddenly filled with memories of the four Sheikah scouts in their little encampment he'd seen two weeks ago. Jared didn't wait for him to snap out of it, but grabbed him by the arm and hauled him to the door of the stable. "Come on!" the boy urged. 

Link broke out of his stupor, pulling free of Jared and sprinting across the courtyard towards the main hall, keeping his cloak close about him. He bolted in the heavy front doors, shedding cloak and riding gear as he went, Jared close behind him. Tearing down the hall, he nearly ran into the crowd of onlookers choking the Great Hall's entryway. The voices were loud and echoing, shouting over one another. 

"We found this spy trailing his young lordship's riding party from the valley to the western ridge!" Rishto's harsh voice bellowed. "No doubt to kill him--the Duke's very son!" 

The crowd's din increased at this statement. Jared and Link pushed their way to the fore, coming out to a tableau so shocking Link made a startled noise aloud. 

A beaten, bloodied Sheikah man knealt in chains between two guards, his shimmering white hair stained red in places from his wounds. Though defeated, he was defiant, and his bright-ruby eyes still smoldering with danger. 

Lyon, Rishto, and Leo stood at the head of the Great Hall, the Sheikah forced to kneel before them. Lyon looked as Link had never seen him--bold, tall, his face stern and his eyes bright and focused. Rishto and Leo simply looked angry and smug. 

"What is this?" Link asked amid the din. 

"They've caught a Sheikah!" Jared replied, clinging to Link's arm as if to a lifeline in nervousness. "I can't _believe_ my father had our rides followed!" 

Link recognized the man as one of the ones he'd seen before, but the man's identity shocked him. _Idek! Oh, no!_

The two youths stood behind the Sheikah, so he could not see them, but Lyon's eyes found them out of the crowd. Link saw Lyon's deep blue eyes focus on him, and a softening of compassion entered into that gaze. 

"Cease this babble!" Lyon commanded, and the hall fell silent with a startling hush. "I would not force my son's guest to see his tribesman executed. The deed shall wait until tomorrow." 

"Father--!" Leo stuttered. 

"Silence." Lyon waved a hand, gesturing the crowd to disperse. "Take the prisoner to the dungeon. And the rest of you, begone! My Hall is not a circus!" 

As the crowd began to flow out, the Sheikah prisoner was dragged away. He never saw Link, who remained frozen in the crowd that milled around him. 

Lyon, done passing judgement, turned to spot his son standing with Link. "Jared?" 

The youth stepped forward nervously. "Yes, sir?" 

"Take your friend riding tomorrow, early." 

"But--!" 

"That is a command." 

Jared glanced from his father to the Sheikah and then to Link. He knew the storm would make no difference to his father. "Yes, sir." 

Link stared after Idek even after he was long gone. He could not believe what had come to pass; it had happened so fast. Idek was simply to be killed--and just because he was a Sheikah and therefore automatically a murderer and a spy. 

"I am so sorry you had to witness that," Lyon said beside him, startling him. "Please, go with Jared tomorrow, and when you return everything shall be as it was again." 

Link stared at his father through eyes that were trapped in a color they were not meant to be--and knew that Lyon looked back at red eyes that would always bring him hatred. "But...sir, I...I would always know," Link managed to say, his voice barely cracking. 

Lyon sighed. With a faint nod, he turned away and went back to his conversation with Rishto. 

Later that evening, Jared and Link met over hot cider in their bedclothes. They sat in Jared's room before the small, crackling fireplace, the windows shut tight against the storm that raged outside. Though the curtains were drawn, the echoes of the wind's howls still penetrated the halls, making the whole castle moan eerily. 

Link was quiet, withdrawn, and depressed, while Jared was pensive, anxious, and upset--mainly because of Link's mood. "It's the way it's always been," Jared said again, repeating it as if to reassure himself as well. "We catch them, they die; they catch us, we die. It's a war." 

"But what if he wasn't a spy?" Link asked. "What if he was just out riding, like us?" 

"That's impossible," Jared responded. "This side of the river belongs to us--they know that." 

"Diggins said that the cropland valleys on this side used to belong to the Sheikah, before your father was Duke." 

Jared shrugged. "They have the whole Barrens to live and farm on. They control far more territory than we do." 

"Why would they call it the Barrens unless it was barren, useless land that nobody else wanted?" Link asked. "Don't be ignorant on purpose, Jared. You know that the Sheikah are being treated unfairly." 

Jared knew, and that was what stung--so he attacked in return. "Sheikah, Sheikah, Sheikah! Why are you so Sheikah all of a sudden?" 

"I'm not all of a sudden," Link answered, a bit coldly. He drained his mug and stood, his face now slightly above the light from the fireplace so his features were oddly shadowed. "I always have been. Look at my eyes, Jared. Did you forget I'm Sheikah as well?" 

Jared could only meet the ruby gaze for a second before looking down. For an instant, he shuddered; the red eyes reflected the golden glow of the flames in a way that made them seem on fire themselves. Or maybe the fire in his eyes was _real_. 

Link set down his mug. "I can't take sides in this war. I'd be a hypocrite if I did. But I can't stand by and watch both of my peoples slaughter each other only for the sake of hatred." He strode towards the door. 

Behind him, Jared stood up. "What are you going to do?" he asked softly. 

Link paused, halfway across the room. "I don't know." 

"Link...please don't do something stupid. I don't want to see you killed because you did something to cause my father to..." 

"I can't do anything right now. I don't want you to be involved." Link smiled reassuringly at his half-brother. "Don't worry. I have no intention of doing anything stupid." 

"Good. I was worried about you for a minute." Jared breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at him. "I've really enjoyed having you here with me. It's much better than trying to have fun with Leo." 

Link shrugged at the compliment. "Thanks." 

"In fact, I think this is the first time I've actually gotten to see what it's like to have a brother." 

Link nearly choked, frozen for one moment with the fear that Jared had somehow, impossibly, discovered his secret. 

"A real brother," Jared continued innocently. "You know, not a stuck-up blowhard like Leo. He's so self-important he doesn't have time for rides or games. And he's quite mean at times. Not like you. You're a lot more fun--you're nice, and you like to go riding, exploring, and have fun. Sometimes...I wish _you_ were really my brother, not Leo." 

Link relaxed infintesmally; Jared was only speaking figuratively--and in ignorance. At the same time, his heart went out to the boy. _Oh, Jared...if only you knew! I **am** your brother! I can't believe...you would actually **want** me to be in your family! **Me**--the half-Sheikah bastard!_ Words could not describe how that knowlege warmed Link's heart. Jared was willing to accept him--even to the point of brotherhood, to the point of imagining it were real. _It **is** real! Jared, how I wish I could tell you..._

"It's good that we get along," was all he managed to say. Though Jared's thoughts had made his heart glad, another part of him shrunk in despair that this kind-hearted boy would never truly know to whom he had spoken those words. "Well...g'night. I'll see you early in the morning for the ride. Storm or no storm, I want to be out of here tomorrow." 

"I understand. Good night, Link." 

Rishto watched from the stairway as Link departed from Jared's room and headed down the hall and around the corner to his own. Suspicion that had begun to tingle earlier suddenly arose in him--the half-breed had been as white as a sheet at the sight of the Sheikah captive. Was it possible he knew the man? Was there more connection there than he'd guessed at first? Better safe than sorry. He waved at the butler who stood halfway down the stairs from him; the man was one of his loyals. 

"Yes, sir?" 

"Tell Skur to send one of his guards to watch the half-breed's door tonight," Rishto ordered softly. "I smell a rat. That boy might be up to something." 

"Aye, right away, sir." The butler hustled off downstairs. 

Rishto continued to watch the hallway where Link had gone, stroking his goatee and wondering just what Link might be planning, if anything at all. The boy was a snake, he decided, all coiled up and hiding, uncertain of the threats around him; he might be venomous or he might not--Rishto had no way to tell--and either way, he could still bite. He was dangerous. 

Rishto knew from experience that if you weren't sure, it was always best to kill the snake quickly.   
  
_To Be Continued..._


	11. Impossible Escape

((LEGAL STUFF: Link, Zelda, Impa, and the other game-based characters are property and copyrights of Nintendo. No infringement intended. No profit made--these stories are purely for reader enjoyment. The new characters introduced here are mine, purely fictional--do not use them without my permission! Any similarities to events and persons in reality or other peoples' stories are purely coincidental. Thank you for your patience.)) 

  
  
**The Legend of Zelda: Journey to the Past**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
  
**Chapter 11: Impossible Escape**

Jared was right. Link wasn't going to do anything stupid. 

He heard the moment the guard took up a post outside his door; the man's heavy step and low breathing alerted him. But he hadn't planned on the door, anyway. It was far too obvious and was likely to get him caught. He sat on his bed for several hours in the dark of his room before moving, waiting for the house to go quiet in sleep. Then he went to work preparing. 

Link carefully finished dressing in his old Sheikah ensemble behind his locked bedroom door. Determined to rescue Idek somehow, he was fully prepared to deal with the consequences. He had his bow on, as well as his belt pouches full of various useful items. Once he was ready, he double-checked his equipment, made sure the guard was still unheeding outside his door, and headed for the window. 

The storm howled outside--it was going to be cold, wet, and very unpleasant. Link steeled himself and slowly opened the window. 

The wind blew, ruffling the curtains out. Luckily, his room was on the lee side of the hall, so not so much freezing rain poured in. Link already had his turban, muffler, and cloak pulled tight around him, so he stepped up on the windowframe and pulled the pane shut behind him. Squinting through the pounding rain, getting soaked already, he asessed his situation. He didn't think it was stupid at all. 

_Nope, not stupid,_ the half-Sheikah thought wryly. _Just suicidal._

Gripping the rough stone, Link began to work his way along the wide window niche towards the tiny ledge that ran level with the bottom of the windows. His fingers were already numb when he tried to grip the stone wall; maneuvering his toes along the three-inch ledge while keeping his weight against the wall was torture on his calves. 

_Easy, easy,_ he cautioned himself. _This isn't any worse than facing Ganondorf._

It occurred to him that he had faced Ganondorf to save the world; he was creeping along this ledge just to save his uncle, a Sheikah stranger he didn't even know. 

He passed by two windows on his torturous trek. The third he finally peeked into and ensured that the room was empty. He'd discovered that days ago, but only needed to reassure himself. He pulled himself into the window niche and used his dagger on the lock. It didn't take long before he was in. 

Once inside, Link closed the window and hustled to the fireplace. He hung his cloak on the stone mantel to prevent having to carry it through the house, leaving a wet trail wherever he went. His tunic and the rest of his clothes were only a little damp around the edges. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Link pushed open the chamber door and peeked down the hall. He was in the last room on the corner, just before the turn that led to Jared's hall. The stairway was just around the corner...but the guard was just down the hall. 

_Too bad I don't have any invisibility magic,_ Link grumped silently as he eyeballed the distance between himself and the guard. He waited, unmoving, with the patience of a hunting cat. Finally, the guard shifted his weight and turned his head away from Link's position. Silent, Link slid out the door and around the corner. The guard never heard a thing. 

On cat's feet, Link padded down the darkened stairway, heading for the back of the castle and the great doors that led to the dungeon. Twice a passing butler nearly spotted him, but he hid in the shadows. Guardsmen usually missed him on their prescribed routes, as he ducked into corners. 

It all very nearly came to an end when he almost ran into Rishto and four guards that were pacing the hallways. Rishto was issuing snappy orders in regards to new watches to defend against Sheikah as he went, the men saluting and "Yes, sir-ing" the whole way. Link ducked into a shadowy alcove behind a suit of armor and didn't breathe until all of them were gone and out of earshot. 

It took him roughly fifteen minutes to sneak past the kitchen hall to the thick, heavy doors that led to the dungeon. Luckily, the giant doors didn't creak when he pulled one open and slid through. Now the atmosphere changed from a pleasant, sleeping castle to cold, stony darkness. Only a couple torches flickered in the dim hallway and down the steep stone staircase. At the bottom, he paused before rounding the corner, alerted by men's voices in the guardroom beyond. 

He peered beyond the stone for a bare second. There were two of them, laughing and talking softly over bread, wine, and cheese. Only two guardsmen--he breathed a sigh of relief. He had just such a weapon for that. 

Link reached to his belt and drew up a small, light leather pouch. Cautious, he sprinkled some of the dusty, faintly green powder into his hand. It was snoozeblossom pollen, straight from the Lost Woods of the North--very difficult to come by, but extremely useful. He'd had it in his arsenal since coming South, but had had no reason to use it. 

It only took a small handful of the stuff, but it nearly used up his supply. In concentrated, water-bourne doses, the powder could be lethal. If a large amount were snuffed, it produced a very long-lasting narcotic coma. Inhaling a tiny amount of the air-bourne particles, however, induced harmless sleep. All the Kokiri knew to avoid those areas of the forest where snoozeblossoms grew during the spring. 

Link held up his small handful, careful not to inhale save through his mask. Drawing down his mask quickly, he puffed it into the air towards the guardsmen before ducking back around the corner. Carefully securing his facecloth over his mouth and nose, he settled in to wait out the pollen's effects. 

It took less than five minutes. The men snored face-down on the table as though passed-out drunk. Link waited for another few minutes to allow the pollen to settle out of the air, then kept his mask on as he hurried in to search the sleeping men for their dungeon keys. One of them had a keyring with only two keys on it; Link snatched it up and hurried to the prison door. The first key didn't work, but the second snapped the lock open and let him in. 

Luckily, the dungeon was empty save its single prisoner. Link stepped down the few stairs and across the straw-strewn floor, stepping over carelessly left chains and manacles. He soundlessly approached the hunched form of the Sheikah in the far corner, feeling inexplicably nervous. 

The Sheikah jumped around when he touched the man on the shoulder. "Who--?" His eyes widened at the sight of the youth crouched beside him. 

Link frantically shushed him. "You'll bring this whole place down on us!" he warned in a whisper. "Don't worry--I'm a friend." 

Idek blinked at him. "You...you're Sheikah...?" His voice was thick with the Sheikah accent. 

Link nodded, taking up the man's wrists and seeing if any of the keys would work on his chains. "I am the one you seek," he explained quickly. "I'm Link. My mother is Impa." 

"How did you--?" 

"I know Impa wouldn't abandon me," Link half-lied with a frown; neither of the keys worked. "Do the guards have keys for these manacles?" 

"Only Rishto has the keys for these chains," Idek explained, standing up. "You would have to fight him to free me." 

"Not necessarily." Link's brow creased in concentration as he stood and gripped the two chains that bound Idek just above the manacles. This was going to take some effort, and he'd never really tried it, but... 

Idek managed a gasp of surprise as the iron chains began to heat, then glow. Unearthly flame licked about Link's fingers as the youth strove to contain the Fire he'd called up, struggling to keep it from expanding outward and killing his uncle, to keep it confined to his hands and forced into the iron. The iron turned white-hot, and Idek grunted at the heat that seeped painfully through his manacles. 

Panting, Link finally relinquished his grip, hissing as his hands released the semi-molten metal. "Pull!" he rasped. Idek shook himself out of his surprise and leaned his full weight against the heated metal. The iron stretched slightly and broke. 

"That...was incredible..." Idek began. 

"Din's Fire," Link explained tersely, cradling his hands. Despite gripping metal that could have come from a smith's forge, his fingers sported only minor burns, just enough to blister the skin. 

They doused Idek's hot chains in a dirty bucket of water in one corner, and Link cooled his injured hands. Idek was worried about the hiss of steam alerting the guards, but Link assured him that all of them in the prison anteroom were asleep over their meals. 

"You'll have to get some help for those manacles," Link said tiredly as he finished cooling his hands. "I can't do more." 

"You've done enough," Idek said thankfully. "Do you know a way out?" 

Link nodded and led the way back up through the dungeon hall. As the two crept along the main corridor towards the great doors that led to the courtyard, Idek watched Link out of the corner of his eye. "Are you coming with me? You must want to escape as much as I." 

"I'm not a prisoner here," Link corrected. "But I can't leave yet." 

"I see." Idek looked skeptical. "In that case, is there a message you'd like me to convey to your mother?" 

"Tell her I'm alright," Link replied softly. "Tell her I've found him. Tell her I'm sorry and I understand now what she meant. Tell her I...I...I'll come soon." 

Idek glanced at the boy again. "I will." 

"And...if she still has it, would you ask her to find some way of getting her eye-stone to me? She'll know what I mean." 

"It shall be done." 

"Thank you." Link pulled up short of the main doors. "Right out the front. Can you get out from here?" 

Idek grinned at him. "Once I was free of those chains, I could have escaped easily. Thank you, Nephew." 

Link grinned back, unable to help it. "I'll see you---" 

It took him by surprise when Idek suddenly shoved him backwards. He fell through the doors of one of the anterooms and lay surprised, staring up at his uncle. Loud voices down the hall startled him--Idek had heard the guards' approach and sought to preserve Link's anonymity in this escape. The guards shouted; Idek winked at him and plunged through the main doors, out into the night. Link heard Rishto's enraged voice in the hall. Shouts issued from the guards, and outside there was more yelling. One of the guards in the hall stuck his head in the anteroom--but Link had already hidden himself behind a tapestry. Rishto and the guards ran out the door into the storm after Idek. 

Link grabbed his opportunity to sprint down the hall towards safety. He pulled a turn into the stairway and bolted up it, keeping his footsteps quiet. He nearly barreled around the corner to his room when he remembered the guard and pulled up short. 

He peeked around the corner. The guard was alert, and looking towards the stairway corridor--in his direction. _Uh-oh!_

Rishto was furious at losing the shadowy Sheikah that darted into the darkness of the courtyard and vanished. He ordered his men to spread out and search the entire area, not leaving one haystack unprodded. The stables, the forge, the barracks--everything was to be turned upside-down. The storm would not stop them; the men would stay out until the Sheikah was found. Freezing rain be damned, Rishto wouldn't allow an assassin to ruin all his plans. 

As he strode back towards the house, he looked up at the windows on the upper floors. They were dark, most of them. In the late hours of the night few folk were up and about. But what if there were more people around? What if the Sheikah had had help from the inside? 

A nagging suspicion began to form in the back of his mind. The Sheikah couldn't have escaped on his own...could he? Rishto had locked those manacles himself. No mortal man could have escaped without the keys--or without help. Frowning, he put his lieutenant in charge and headed back for the front door. He needed to check up on a certain half-breed who was currently under suspicion. 

His footsteps were loud on the stone floor at the base of the stairs. 

Finally, the guard grew antsy and glanced down. Link flitted around the corner and through the door in a moment, closing it softly behind him. He swung on his still-damp cape and tied it tightly around himself as footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. _Uh-oh...someone's come to check...I guess it's once more into the storm,_ he thought, opening the window and stepping out into the freezing rain once more. 

The guard jumped to alert and saluted when a very cold, wet Rishto approached. The captain waved away the respect. "Any news?" he inquired briskly. 

"No, sir," the guard reported dutifully. "He's been quiet as a mouse all evening. Not a peep. He hasn't even stirred out his door." 

Rishto gazed at the closed door, feeling that nagging suspicion return again, growing stronger by the minute. He reached for the door handle--but it was locked. Frowning, Rishto reached for his key ring and tried to remember which key it was that opened the rooms in this hall. 

Link scrambled back in his window and locked it behind him. He didn't dare light a candle with the people just outside his door talking. He was pretty sure that the jangling of keys meant someone was coming in. 

He frantically struggled out of his wet cloak, throwing it to the floor. Stripping to the skin, he stacked his Sheikah clothes and his weapons with his cloak and shoved the whole pile under the bed, using the ruffles to hide the evidence of their presence. He prayed that he left no noticeable puddles anywhere and that his room would seem in order. He dug his nightclothes out from under his pillow and pulled them on, diving under the covers and closing his eyes as the doorknob turned and the door creaked open. 

Rishto, holding a borrowed candlestick from a light in the hall, crept into the half-breed's bedroom and raised his light high. There he was...right there in the bed. 

Scowling, the captain came close to the bedside, holding his candle so that the small golden flame lit the youth's face for observation. He was sound asleep, Rishto observed, his face as peaceful and innocent as a babe's. The boy reminded him of Lyon in his younger days, just as Jared did. Frowning, he leaned closer. 

Yes...this boy definitely resembled Lyon closely, though there were slight differences in the length of his nose and the shape of his jaw. He didn't look like a Sheikah at all with his eyes closed. One could never tell if it weren't for those devilish red eyes. 

Rishto drew back with an invisible shudder. The youth's face made him uneasy; he looked far too much like Lyon for it to be a coincidence. Just another intractable mystery to solve, this northern youth. He'd figure it out, and when he did the boy would die, just like every other obstacle. 

But Rishto was also angry. He had an escaped Sheikah running about and his first suspect was completely innocent. It would have been nice to get rid of the half-breed so easily had he been involved, but he was still here in his bed sleeping the emergency away. 

Angered, Rishto strode out of the room, closing the door behind him. _Damn Sheikah must have picked the locks somehow._ "Don't leave this post until you're relieved," he ordered the hapless guard. 

"Aye, sir." 

Link slipped one eye open, sighed deeply, and settled back down to sleep for real. This time, a faint smile graced his features. 

The next morning, Rishto was even more furious than before. First he had to figure out how the Sheikah got out of a dungeon door locked from the outside. He had to puzzle out why two of his best, most responsible guards had passed out drunk in their wine. He most wanted to know how the Sheikah man could have melted his iron shackles like a foundry furnace and torn them asunder to escape!   
  
_To Be Continued..._


	12. One Good Blade

((LEGAL STUFF: Link, Zelda, Impa, and the other game-based characters are property and copyrights of Nintendo. No infringement intended. No profit made--these stories are purely for reader enjoyment. The new characters introduced here are mine, purely fictional--do not use them without my permission! Any similarities to events and persons in reality or other peoples' stories are purely coincidental. Thank you for your patience.)) 

  
  
**The Legend of Zelda: Journey to the Past**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
  
**Chapter 12: One Good Blade**

When Idek reached the safety of his people's settlement, collapsing at the feet of a sentry, the whole village lit up with excitement. Their youngest prince had returned with news! As the sentry and his fellow guards carried Idek into the encampment, folk crowded the spaces between the tents and Chieftain Imrek came clear out of his dwelling to meet the entourage. 

Idek, upon seeing his father, gave a weak but cocky smile as he leaned on the support of two sentries. "[See, Father? I told you so...]" 

"[My son! My son!]" Imrek said in relief. "[You are alive and returned!]" 

Impa, with Sheik close behind her, dashed out of the tent behind her father. "[Sunset! Where is my son?]" she all but demanded. 

"[He is--]" 

"[Hush!]" Imrek ordered, waving his hands at the gathered Sheikah. "[All of you, return to your tents! If there is word, I will send for your family heads to deliver it to you. Let us return to rest--it is not well for us to be in an uproar at this hour of the night.]" 

As Imrek took Idek and supported him on his shoulder, the Sheikah reluctantly gathered their own and trickled away from the Chieftain's tent, disappointed that the announcements were not made immediately. 

Imrek carried Idek into his tent, into his own chambers, and laid him beside the small clay oven that warmed his room. He assisted his son in removing his soaked and tattered clothing and replacing it with a warm, woven lounging robe. Once Idek was swathed in woolens and buffalo skins, Imrek allowed Impa and Zelda to enter and speak with him. 

More than a little miffed at being put off, Impa sat down and addressed her weakened brother directly. "[Sunset, you promised me word of my son. You promised you would bring him back!]" 

Idek gazed at her sadly and set down his mug of warm spicebark cider. "[Twilight, Father...Ghost is well and safe. I was captured, and he helped me escape--but he would not come with me. He chose to remain, for reasons I do not know. Sister, he gave me a message for you: He said he has found what he was looking for, that he is sorry and he understands, and that he will come soon.]" 

Impa blinked away sudden tears. "[He found Lyon...]" 

"[Perhaps now...we can at last achieve peace,]" Imrek said softly. 

"[What do you mean?]" Impa asked. 

"[Since your dishonor nearly eighteen years ago, our two peoples have been at war,]" Imrek explained. "[The Hylians began it--I do not know why--but we continued it for the sake of your honor. You were gone...and we thought that the Lion had spirited you away to hide his shame or that you had died because of his dishonor to you.]" 

"[But...Father, I have returned,]" Impa said. "[There is no more reason to fight.]" 

Imrek smiled gently. "[Our war with the Hylians ended the moment I laid eyes on you again and heard your voice tell me you were alright, and that the dishonor was no more. But our enemies will not be so quick to cease. The Lion's Man wishes heartily for war with us. There will not be much to dissuade him.]" 

"Link..." Zelda said quietly, speaking up for the first time. "He is the key." 

"[Pardon?]" Imrek asked. 

Zelda looked up at him. "[Ghost...he's the key to stopping this war! He's a child of Shadow-folk and Hylian--from the royal lines of both. He's our path to peace! He is...a link.]" She paused, her eyes widening. "[His name...Ghost...the same word in Hylian means 'link'.]" 

"[Twilight, he requested an...'eye-changing stone?']" Idek said hesitantly. "[I believe he needs that bit of magic you used on Shadow...or Zelda.]" 

"[By the Eye, you're right!]" Imrek realized. "[If he's to be acknowleged by the Lion he must be restored to his true appearance. We must deliver the stone to him.]" 

"[How can we do that, Father?]" Idek asked. "[An entourage of Shadow-folk arriving at the gates of the Lion's Den will be slaughtered, not welcomed, no matter how peaceful our intentions. The Lion's Man will see to that.]" 

Imrek rubbed his beard. "[Hmmm...]" 

"[Sir?]" Zelda said softly, sitting up. "[I believe I can help you with this problem.]" 

The fact that the early-morning ride had been cancelled filled Link's heart with glee, though he expertly disguised it as disappointment when Leo curtly told him that he was to remain within the castle walls today--they had a Sheikah assassin on the loose. Jared was moping about somewhere and Link couldn't find him, so he wandered aimlessly for a bit before finding himself in the soldier's armory next door to the forge and barracks. 

There were many fine weapons hung on racks within the armory, though there were none so fine as the Master Sword. After wielding a gods-forged weapon like that, even the best of steel swords felt clunky in his hands. But he looked around a bit before reaching to the back of one of the racks, towards a sword covered with dust. He picked it up, hefted it a bit, and found that it was a fine blade. 

"Ye've an eye for swords, lad, that ye do." 

The voice at the armory door startled him, causing him to nearly drop the weapon. He whirled, surprised to find a thick, burly, bearded man regarding him with kindly twinkling eyes. "I...I..." 

"No need te panic, laddie," the old soldier said with a chuckle. "I won't arrest ye fer lookin' at some old swords." 

Link frowned, feeling that he recognized the brogue-laced voice. "I know you from somewhere..." 

"Aye, me name's Sergeant Bryant. I were the one who--" 

"You were at the river with Jared!" Link realized. "You rescued me." 

"Smart boy," Bryant said. "I'm the young lord's trainer and bondsman. I look after 'im while his father's busy, teach 'im to fight and hunt and such-like." He regarded Link with a smile for a moment. "I see ye've chosen a blade, lad. And a fine choice it be." 

"This? I guess..." Link shrugged. "It seemed like a good one." 

Bryant chuckled. "That there be the former captain's blade. Belonged to good ol' Armand, who were Captain o' the Lion's Guard before Rishto, back when Duke Lyon were but a lad your age. No finer sword you'll find in this armory. 'Tis old, but well-forged steel with great heft an' balance." 

"Yes." Link looked the sword over, noting the crest on the pommel. "I see. I didn't mean to--" 

"Nay, nay!" Bryant said quickly. "If ye've got an eye for good swords, I'll wager ye're good at swordplay as well, laddie. Even though ye don't carry one of yer own." 

Link shrugged. 

"How'd ye like a sparrin' match, lad? I'm jest an ol' soldier with creaky bones, but I'll give ye a drubbin' should ye give me an inch." 

Brows raised, Link regarded the thick man with surprise. "You...wouldn't mind...?" 

Bryant smiled. "Not a whit, lad. I enjoy a good match as much as th' next man. But m'lord Jared...ain't a swordsman, ye know as I mean? He's a good lad, but nowt with weapons." 

Link actually laughed at that; he understood. Jared was far too gentle to care much for swords and fighting. He smiled eagerly, too; he hadn't had a chance to use his specialty--the broadsword--since he'd left Central Hyrule. A match right now was just what he needed to clear his mind. "Sure. I'll spar with you. Where do you want to go?" 

Bryant gestured out the door. "How's aboot right here in th' courtyard? That way there's plenty o' room." 

Grinning, Link followed the older Hylian out to the broad courtyard, where they paced off the requisite distance and Bryant drew his own sword. As they faced each other, Bryant stood straight and stared at Link. "Ye're left-handed, lad," he observed with some surprise. 

Link looked at his sword, then back at his opponent. "Yeah? So?" 

"I never knew any left-handers, 'cept m'lord Jared an' the Duke." Bryant grinned. "Never fought a lefty save fer them. This'll be interestin'." 

"Let's go!" Link shouted, then charged. 

The two met with a clash of steel. Three strikes, all of which Bryant parried, then returned an attack of his own. Link met each thrust with no trouble. Bryant was immensely strong and a wonderfully skilled opponent, but he lacked a little in speed and agility. Neither gave the other an inch of quarter, enjoying their match to the fullest. 

The courtyard around them soon became full of servant-folk, who gasped and ooohed and cheered as the sparring match went on. Even a few of the soldiers stopped in their rounds to watch the grounds sergeant go at it with a mere slip of a boy--and it appeared that Bryant was beginning to lose. 

Link parried each of Bryant's strikes, expertly deflecting the old soldier's thrusts in a direction that would make it hard for him to recover and defend. Being left-handed against a right-handed opponent made it easier for Link to drive him back; he was used to right-handed enemies and knew how to use his quirk to an advantage. He could strike at angles that were difficult for his opponent to block. 

Bryant was puffing by now; the old soldier was finding this young Sheikah to be as quick as a hare and strong as a lion. He was the wind itself with that blade, handling it with a mastery that bespoke both hours of training and great natural talent. Finally, with a thrust, twist, and flick, Bryant's sword flew through the air, landing at the feet of an astonished private across the courtyard. Link stood before the old sergeant victoriously. 

To his surprise, Bryant applauded. "Well fought, laddie, well fought! I've seen no man better with a sword, save the Duke 'imself. Ye're bloody good with that blade, boy--not a single man in this castle 'cept Duke Lyon could stand against ye...not ev'n Captain Rishto. That I know." 

"The Duke is good with blades as well?" Link asked, surprised that Lyon, a quiet person like Jared, would have anything to do with swords and weapons. 

Bryant fetched his sword, chuckling softly. "I were the best swordsman among the guards, save Captain Armand, long ago. I trained Duke Lyon meself, and he passed me up when he were yer age. Captain Armand hisself trained Duke Lyon after me--I've known no better swordsmen than those two. The Duke...his sword is a part o' him, and when he wields it--beware!" 

"I am not deserving of such flattery!" spoke the Duke's voice from the direction of the great Hall doors. "You speak far too well of me, my old teacher." 

Bryant whirled, and Link stared beyond him, startled beyond words that Lyon had seen their match. "Yer...yer Ex'lency!" Bryant bowed quickly. "No offense, sir--me an' the lad were jes havin' a little match. No 'arm done." 

"None at all, old friend." Lyon gripped Bryant's shoulder. "Might I borrow your blade?" 

"S-sir..." Without hesitation, Bryant handed his sword over. 

Link stood loosely, unsure, wondering at this sudden change in the Duke. His face had lit up from its usual melancholy cast, and his eyes were much brighter. He seemed a different man--like he was in the Hall during the Sheikah's "trial." 

"I watched your match with the sergeant," Lyon said, stepping closer to Link. "You have great skill for one so young. I have never seen your equal among any of my men." 

"Uh, thanks," Link said hesitantly. "I...I had a lot of practice up North." _There. Not a total lie._

"Would you care to cross swords with me, Link?" the Duke asked. "Just a little match, as with Bryant. I have not had an opponent of any skill in years. Would you allow me this liberty?" 

"How can I refuse, Excellency?" Link asked. "You are the Duke." 

"But face me as though I were a commoner," Lyon said. "Man to man, skill against skill alone. Do not rein in your sword simply because I am the Duke and you fear my wrath should you win. If you win, I will give you naught but praise." 

"I accept," Link said softly, not knowing what else to say. He was nervous; truth be told, even his hands were shaking. He was going to spar with the Duke himself--his own father. How would he stand up to this supposedly legendary swordsman? Could he do well enough to please Lyon, even if the other man had no inkling as to who he really was? 

_Father, even if you don't know...please, be proud of me,_ Link thought with a deep breath, setting himself into a ready stance, sword raised. 

Lyon touched the tip of his sword to Link's. With a smile, the Duke spoke. "Shall we begin?"   
  
_To Be Continued..._


	13. Master Swordsman

((LEGAL STUFF: Link, Zelda, Impa, and the other game-based characters are property and copyrights of Nintendo. No infringement intended. No profit made--these stories are purely for reader enjoyment. The new characters introduced here are mine, purely fictional--do not use them without my permission! Any similarities to events and persons in reality or other peoples' stories are purely coincidental. Thank you for your patience.)) 

  
  
**The Legend of Zelda: Journey to the Past**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
  
**Chapter 13: Master Swordsman**

The air was cold from the previous night's icy storm, and even in the warming sun of late morning there were still patches of faint frost in the shadows. The two combatants that faced each other with bright eyes did not seem to feel the cold; the younger was already warmed from his previous exhertion and the elder wore thicker clothing. Their breath puffed faintly like dragon's smoke in the coolness, even as the sun on their bodies was almost hot. 

Steel hissed softly against steel as the two combatants regarded each other over their gently brushing blades. Two pairs of eyes stared into each other, one set cool, calm, and focused, the other wide, alert, and nervous. They measured each other for several long moments, their gaze unbreaking and almost unsettling in its sapphire-and-ruby intensity. Neither of them flinched or advanced. 

Without warning, Lyon _moved_. With a tight gasp, Link blocked--barely. For an instant, Lyon's brows raised in appreciative surprise, and then he was moving again, his sword whirring dangerously in sharp thrusts and powerful strikes. Link was forced to guard close in to himself, completely on the defensive, while constantly stepping back to avoid Lyon's blows. 

_I wish I had my shield!_ Link thought wildly, keeping focus on the fast, intricate movements of the fight. He was already nervous about facing the Duke; now, his own desperation to prove himself in his father's eyes pushed him to new levels. With one last parry, he gathered his muscles and backflipped away, then darted to the left and came in at Lyon again. He was rewarded by a startled murmur from the gathered crowd. 

This time, the Duke was forced to the defensive as Link hammered him with powerful blows, nearly bringing sparks from their blades. But Lyon's defense was just as good as his offense, and Link could find no holes to take advantage of. The sharp clashing of their weapons echoed in the silent courtyard; their audience was too awed by the furious pace and deadly prowess of the combatants to cheer or comment. No one spoke, and everyone had moved many paces backward. 

Several times, their blades locked as they tested their strength against each other. Link strained, but each time he was forced to concede the contest to Lyon. His father was surprisingly strong, and his quick attacks had already proved he was quite fast to boot. Link could not count on his strength or his speed; he would have to go by skill alone and pray it was enough. That, and a few special techniques he had up his sleeve. Fighting Lyon was like fighting his own dark mirror image again...only worse. 

Straight thrust. Side parry. A horizontal forward strike at Lyon's chest, deflected downward. Another parry, this time a vertical block. Link ducked aside of the counterstrike, made an upward slash that nearly scored, and quickly blocked a low quick thrust aimed at his thigh. Everything was terribly fast--much faster than any of the battles Link could remember. He was fighting almost by instinct alone--no time for conscious reaction. Not a single Stalfos, Lizalfos, or Dark Shadow had ever tested him thus--not even the fights with Ganon had pushed him to this limit of speed and skill. This was swordsmanship at its finest art, he realized...and he had far to go before he truly became a master. 

Driven to the far side of the courtyard by Lyon's sword, Link realized he was running out of space. Constantly forced to give ground to the Duke's advance, he was quickly losing his running room, and getting uncomfortably close to the wall. He sought escape on a pile of crates, his spectacular backflip up to his perch earning him "Aaaahhhhs" from the crowd and a surprised grin from Lyon. For a moment, Lyon's sword was still, and he regarded the youth above him. 

"Well met, young man!" the Duke complimented through his heavy breaths. "I have not had such a challenge in many years. You are quite a formidable opponent." 

"Thank you, sir," Link replied, equally breathless. "As are you." He wiped sweat from his brow and quickly contemplated his next course of action. He knew Lyon wouldn't give him long before coming up after him. As he watched the older man retake his ready position, an idea came to mind. _He thinks I'm worthy...maybe I can **really** impress him!_

With a single running step, Link launched himself from his refuge, his sword already moving into his strongest direct attack, a sweeping, vicious downslash that had felled many of Ganon's brutish monsters. Lyon met him with a two-handed overhead parry, stopping his blow and throwing sparks from their steel blades. "Don't overcommit yourself," Lyon grunted, easily pushing him back, "to a one-shot attack--unless you're sure of the kill." 

Wordlessly, Link frantically tried to correct his error, ducking the counterswing and trying to get his sword back up to ready position. Desperate, he ducked and rolled under another arcing swing, coming up on one knee with his sword stretched low behind him in a stance that any familiar with him would recognize. No time for a prolonged charge--Link let go in a spin all the energy he could muster, his sword glowing blue-white as a pulsing wave of energy flashed out in a whirl of power. 

Link had perhaps a tenth of a moment to suddenly realize he had just released a potentially deadly attack in a panic--when he saw Lyon parry the wave with his own glowing blue-white sword in guard position. A pulsing field of energy had risen around his sword, around his person, and Link's chaotic wave washed against and flowed around the shield, leaving the Duke untouched. 

As Lyon came at him again, his eyes frigid and frightening, Link hurriedly pulled his blade up, awkwardly blocking the Duke's first counterstrike. The second knocked his sword wide, throwing him off balance. The third sent Captain Armand's fine blade skidding across the ground, and with an almost inaudible hiss of air, the Duke's blade was stopping him cold before he could run for his sword. 

Panting, eyes wide, Link stared at the focused expression on his father's face, his heart thrumming like a frightened bird's. Unnoticeably trembling, he tried to hold perfectly still as the cold edge of Lyon's blade brushed his throat. 

"Where did you learn such an attack?" Lyon asked breathlessly, his eyes hard. 

Link gulped air and hoarsely replied. "I've known...since I was a child, sir. I was told it could be done...so I did it." 

Lyon gazed at him for a minute. "You mastered this attack on your own?" 

"Pretty much. But after this fight, 'mastered' isn't the word I'd use." 

Lyon raised an eyebrow at that. Then he suddenly smiled warmly, lowering his sword. "Well met. Well met again, boy!" He clapped a strong hand on Link's shoulder, startling the daylights out of the younger warrior. "Well fought!" 

Trying hard to keep his mouth from falling open, Link stared at the Duke, marveling at the warmth and strength in his father's firm grip. "Th-thank you, Your Excellency." 

When they saw that the spectacle was over, the castle folk and the soldiers began to drift away, milling back to their duties. With a nudge to his shoulder, Lyon encouraged Link to walk with him as they headed back to the Great Hall. Bryant stopped near them for a moment to reclaim his weapon and congratulate Link before hurrying off to his duties as well. 

"You have the general idea of the Shining Sword Attack," Lyon commented as they strolled toward the Hall doors. "It was powerfully executed--and I don't believe I've ever seen it used in quite that way before. If I had not been prepared, that wave would have knocked me clean off of my feet!" 

"So...you know the method too?" Link asked, almost shyly. 

"I do," Lyon replied. "It takes a rare warrior to be able to use the Shining Sword. Some say it is a blood-power, but so few have the ability to use their energy in such a way that it has never been proven. I have trained my son Jared in the use of the Shining Sword Attack, but Leo has no aptitude for it." 

Link gulped, hoping he hadn't given himself away by using the energy. If it was a blood-power, as Lyon said--an ability passed down through families--it could have been an obvious sign. "I wouldn't have expected that Jared--" Link began, before realizing what he was saying. "Oh...I'm sorry." 

Lyon chuckled. "Don't worry. I'm well aware that Jared has little taste for weapons and fighting. He is a kind-hearted boy; he would be a good man to rule my region in a time of peace...such as we all hope will come someday. But now the times are full of conflict and bloodshed, and Jared is far too gentle to command a kingdom in years like these." He sighed, speaking almost as an afterthought. "I would that my son were such a warrior as you..." 

Link felt his cheeks heat as he tried to hide his startled response to Lyon's unknowing compliment. The Duke's words brought him high honor--above Jared, above even Leo, the firstborn. Lyon wished that he had a son like Link. The youth's heart ached once again, just as it had when Jared wanted for him as a brother. _How I wish I could tell them...!_ "I'm not much of a warrior, sir. Just lucky." 

Lyon smiled, almost seeming to fall back to his melancholy mood. "You sell yourself short, young man. You matched me quite well, and I have not faced your like since my youth." At the doors the the Hall, he stopped, taking Link by the shoulder once again. "I would like to cross swords with you again, young Link," he said gently. "If it be agreeable to you, I would like to keep myself sharp against an opponent such as you--and I would be more than willing to help you reach higher levels of achievement as well. You are a fine, strong youth; your skill is wonderful and you have truly awesome potential. Would you consent to be my training partner, and to let me be your tutor?" 

Awed, Link could only gape at him for a few moments, ruby eyes wide. He couldn't believe what his ears were telling him; Lyon--his own _father_--wanted him as a sparring partner and student. He was so surprised that it took a few moments for his voice to engage. "Ah...uh...yes!" he managed to croak. "I...I would be honored, sir!" 

Lyon smiled one last time. "Thank you, Link. Will I see you for lunch today?" 

"Yes sir!" 

Patting his shoulder, Lyon stepped in the door. "Good. We'll talk later, then." With that, the Duke was gone, leaving Link standing outside the massive oaken doors. For several minutes, the half-Sheikah youth just stood there, blinking dazedly at nothing. Then he shook himself out of his stupor and swallowed to moisten his throat. 

_He...he thinks I'm good..._ he thought wildly. _He told me I'm good! He's pleased with our match!_ Barely containing his excitement, Link headed toward the doors as well, going to look for Jared. _I can't believe it. He wants me to be his training partner! He even wants to teach me more! I just can't believe it...my father is proud of me!_

He couldn't keep the eager, laughing grin off his face as he dashed inside to seek out his younger brother. 

Meanwhile, on a balcony above the courtyard, Leo was still hidden in the shadows from which he had observed the fight. Leaning heavily against the pillar behind him, he rubbed his forehead dazedly, looking very pale indeed. 

He was still staring at the place where Link and Lyon had fought, seeing the scorch-marks on the stone wall near where Link had unleashed his attack--and he'd had a fine vantage point to witness the aftermath. Near the wave, Lyon's energy shield had saved him and only the stones had been marred. Much further back, where the distance robbed the pulsing whirl of its power, the audience had merely felt a strong, heated gust of wind push at their hair and clothing. Still, it was next to unbelievable that a mere Sheikah halfling could possess such power, and the fact that he had held his own so long against Lyon was almost frightening. 

_This isn't good,_ he thought worriedly. _This is **not** good at all. I had no idea he was **that** good of a swordsman. I'd better tell the Captain about this. That half-breed could ruin everything. And as skilled as he is..._

His steps quick and deliberate, Leo hurried into the castle, going directly to Captain Rishto's office. 

Far away, in the Sheikah encampment, Zelda made her way to the rear of Chieftain Imrek's tent, toward her and Impa's private quarters. Inside the warm "room," she sat down near the pile of backpacks that still held much of their belongings. A gentle smile on her face, she leaned close to the packs. 

"Navi. Navi, come out." 

"Zelda?" squeaked a small, empty voice. 

"Good news, Navi--Link's alive and well!" 

With a blinding flash of blue, the tiny fairy leaped into the air, hovering at Zelda's nose. "Wow, really? Oh, I'm so happy! Where is he? Can I see him? Are you sure he's okay?" 

Zelda grinned suddenly. Navi had been unhappy for weeks, unseen by anyone, moping her days away hiding in the packs, barely eating anything but breadcrumbs. Zelda had tried her best to cheer the disconsolate fairy, but Navi would not come out. Now, knowing her best friend was safe, she had come to life again. "Slow down, Navi!" Zelda cautioned with a laugh. "He's alright. He's in a castle across the river, many miles from here. He found his father and he's staying there now, learning more about his roots. He's perfectly safe, but he needs a few things from us." 

"Great! Great!" Navi sparkled excitedly. "Let's go visit him!" 

"Slow down, little one," said the princess. "It's not that easy. We're with the Sheikah, remember?" 

"Oh..." The fairy's enthusiasm melted somewhat. "But...?" 

"Don't worry; the others and I came up with a plan. We're going to see Link as soon as possible--as soon as we can get the supplies we need--and we're going to need your help with this too." 

"Anything!" Navi promised. "I'll do anything I can for you!" 

"That's good." Zelda held out her hand, allowing the delicate fairy to land and settle. "Now listen closely, Navi. This is our plan..."   
  
_To Be Continued..._


	14. So It Begins...

((LEGAL STUFF: Link, Zelda, Impa, and the other game-based characters are property and copyrights of Nintendo. No infringement intended. No profit made--these stories are purely for reader enjoyment. The new characters introduced here are mine, purely fictional--do not use them without my permission! Any similarities to events and persons in reality or other peoples' stories are purely coincidental. Thank you for your patience.)) 

  
  
**The Legend of Zelda: Journey to the Past**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
  
**Chapter 14: So It Begins...**

Link nearly bowled Jared over when he tore through the great hall's main doors. The younger Hylian had apparently been looking for him as well, and greeted him with surprise when Link skidded to a halt just in front of him. 

"I say, where have you been?" Jared asked, startled at his sudden appearance. 

Link couldn't stop grinning. "I was sparring with the Duke--and he says I'm really good! Can you believe it? And he wants me to study swordsmanship with him!" 

"You...crossed swords with my father?" Jared stared at him. 

Link nodded rapidly. "He says he'll teach me more, too. He told me I'm the best he's seen in years!" 

"I see," Jared replied, his face falling a bit. Then he perked up, forcing himself to smile brightly. "Well, I'm happy for you! My father doesn't usually take an interest in anyone like that--not even me. Heaven knows I'm awful with a sword..." 

Link paused, forgetting his elation for a moment to regard Jared with an understanding eye. It couldn't be that the boy was _jealous_, could it? "Say...why don't you practice with us?" 

"What?" Jared blinked. "But...but I couldn't! I'm no good at all, and...well...I've never even _practiced_ with Father before...!" 

"You mean Bryant's done all your training?" Link asked incredulously. 

Jared shrugged, embarassed. "Yes, of course. Father's a busy man, and he's so _great_ with a sword...I'd just be a bother to him." 

"Oh, come on. I'm sure he'd love to practice with both of us. You're his son, after all." 

"I don't...really..." Jared looked down. "I'm not like him or Leo--or you, Link. I don't like fighting and killing and things like that. That's why...I'm not so very fond of swords." 

"It's not like that," Link tried to explain. "Swordsmanship isn't just about fighting and killing, you know. It's more like an art. Like...like horsemanship." 

"Horses don't kill people." 

Link frowned. "A poorly trained horse can." 

Jared glanced up at him in surprise. 

"Swordsmanship isn't just for war," Link told him. "It's a way of expanding your skills, staying fit, and exploring your talents. When the Duke and I fought, we weren't trying to kill each other. Either of us could have--someone who picks up a sword without proper training is more dangerous than a skilled swordsman because they don't know how _not_ to kill. That's part of swordsmanship too." 

"So it's not just about learning how to kill men in battle?" Jared asked, almost surprised of that fact. 

Link smiled. "Of course not! You don't train a horse solely to ride--you also train him to jump fences, pull wagons, or even do tricks. You don't have to shed a single drop of blood to be a good swordsman." 

Jared's eyes seemed to brighten. "Really? Then...then I could really practice with Father?" 

"Yeah!" Link clapped him on the shoulder. "In fact, I'd really like you to join us. I'm sure he would too." 

"I will!" 

Grinning at each other, the two youths headed into the library to find a game to pass the time and talk about swords--and the promise of time spent with Duke Lyon. 

Rishto also blanched at the news of Link's incredible prowess with the sword. Leo was still too upset about the news to be amused at the sight of the Captain so astonished, and while the young man brooded in a chair in Rishto's office, Rishto himself paced the room and tugged at his goatee. 

"He's more dangerous than I thought," the Captain muttered to himself. "And with the blasted winter storms moving in I can't arrange a battle--not at all. The troops can't move now--we'd lose half the force in the blizzards." 

"Why not just hire a non-associated assassin?" Leo quieried at length. "One man should be able to do it." 

"Fool. Think before you open your mouth." 

"But--!" Leo protested indignantly. 

"If he fended off Lyon that long, what makes you think a mere assassin could do the job?" 

Leo scowled, hunching down in the chair. "So hire someone _better_ than Lyon." 

"Can you name such a man?" Rishto waited in terse silence for several seconds while Leo pretended not to have heard the question. "I thought not. You _are_ a fool." 

"What do you expect we should do?" Leo finally demanded. 

"Wait," Rishto replied. "It's very simple--we can bide our time. We have little less than half a year before you're of age--that's enough time to prepare. We can move in the spring, as soon as the thaws come." 

"What about Link?" 

"What about him? He knows nothing, and as long as he knows nothing he's no threat to us." Rishto ceased pacing and faced Leo fully. "I'm close to figuring him out; I can feel it. There's just _something_...right there at the tip of my tongue, but I just can't think of it yet. Something I'm forgetting..." 

Snorting, Leo stood to leave. "Very well, then," he spat grouchily. "We'll wait. While you ponder these mysteries, I'll sit on my hands while the man who could be my undoing walks free. I'm tired of waiting for _my_ turn, old man." 

Rishto glared at him. "Watch how you speak to me, boy, or _I'll_ be your undoing. Get out of my sight." 

Sneering, Leo did--leaving Rishto gazing out his office window, his dark thoughts concentrated on a certain half-breed enigma. 

"I'm beginning to have my doubts about this plan," Impa confessed as they packed Zelda's borrowed horse with enough supplies to last several days. The princess couldn't use her own horse--a rider without reins would draw too much attention. "I don't like the idea of you going off alone into enemy territory." 

Zelda smiled at her, trying to look reassuring--when in fact she had some doubts herself. "Don't worry; I won't be alone. Chekuko will be with me--and Navi too." 

At the mention of his name, the Sheikah boy looked up from his own horse's saddlebags and smiled. The young goatherd had been chosen to accompany Zelda on this venture because he was quite an accomplished fighter for his age, he was nearly as good with a bow as Zelda herself, and at thirteen was the oldest of the half-Hylian children--and therefore, with a little work, could avoid the stigma of Sheikah where they were headed. 

Impa sighed at last, in agreement with Zelda's words. "I just wish I could go with you." 

"I know. I wish you could too, but..." 

"I look too much like a Sheikah, I know," Impa finished for her wryly. "Good thing Chekuko here takes after his Hylian parent so much. All we had to do was change his eyes; his skin is light enough to pass for a country tan and his hair is above suspicion." 

Hearing his name again, Chekuko looked up at them curiously. His eyes, once dark crimson bordering on mahogany, now flashed green courtesy of the eye stone, complimenting his copper-red locks in a strikingly handsome manner. Without the eyes to mark him as one of the Shadow-Folk, he looked like nothing more than a Hylian child of the fields, tanned by the sun, emerald gaze sharp and piercing and his hair like a burnished Southern mark-coin. Only his sharper, more angular features and slim, wiry build still marked his Sheikah heritage--and the casual observer wasn't likely to notice the difference. 

"Dont't worry so much about me," Zelda said at last, patting her mentor's arm reassuringly. "I won't be going as a girl here either--I know better. I'll still be going as a boy--just not a Sheikah boy this time." She gestured to her clothing; both she and Chekuko wore Sheikah clothes altered to look like common Southern garb--and Zelda's eyes were pale blue once more. 

Almost shyly, Chekuko stepped up to their side. "[I am ready,]" he announced politely. "[May I help you finish packing?]" 

"[Thank you, but no,]" Impa replied, smiling at the young boy's willingness. He'd been surprised to have been chosen by his Chieftan for such an important mission--and when told he was going to be helping with the rescue of Imrek's grandson, he was doubly honored and had promised his best to the mission. "[You should go say goodbye to your mother; you'll be leaving soon. And if you see the Lady Butterfly, please tell her to come.]" 

"[Yes, Lady!]" Chekuko skittered off into the tents to do as he was bid. 

"Lady Butterfly?" Zelda asked curiously when he was gone. 

Impa sighed. "Sheikah has no word for 'fairy'--at least none in recent memory. The children saw Navi and called her the Lady Butterfly because they had no other word--and they were too much in awe to speak her name. She seemed amused by it, though." 

Zelda chuckled softly, nodding. Sheikah language was big on titles, hence their tendency to refer to the Duke of Leonine as "the Lion," for example. Such titles were often thought up and adopted on the spot, and used when referring to the person--usually for someone either very respected or very disliked, such as Navi the "Lady Butterfly." True names were used among tribesmen, friends, and family--those with whom one could be familiar--but when amongst foreigners, a Sheikah gave his title, not his name. 

Speaking of Lady Butterflies, Navi herself zipped up, a bright ball of blue light even in the morning sun. "Here I am! Are we ready to go?" 

"All set!" Zelda replied, eager to be on her way. "We just need to wait for Chekuko and then we'll be off." 

Impa finished buckling the saddlebags and checked them over again, more an attempt to look busy and unworried instead of nervous and concerned. She was letting Zelda go alone and unescorted again, against her better judgement; the last time she'd done so, "Sheik" had met up with Link and was eventually revealed and captured by Ganondorf. Granted, there was no Ganondorf here, but there were some things that could actually be worse than an evil warlock who simply wanted to burn her to a crisp and take the Triforce. 

Zelda's hand on her arm stopped her distracted motions, and she turned to face the princess, trying not to display her inner worries on her face. 

"I'll be alright," Zelda whispered. "I _promise_ I will. I'll find Link--you have my word on that too." 

Impa chuckled in chagrin. "Am I _that_ obvious?" 

Zelda smiled and impulsively hugged her. "Impa...you've been like a mother to me for so many years--how could I not learn to understand you? Please, have faith in me. Let me fight this time. You just wait here, and I'll bring your son back to you." 

Impa returned the hug, putting all her faith and prayers into the embrace. "Don't forget, you promised me you'll be okay. If you don't keep that promise, I'll never forgive you." 

They laughed softly together, until a shyly scuffing foot caught their attention and broke them apart. Chekuko stood there, pointedly not watching them, while Navi hovered near the boy's shoulder. 

"Are you two _quite_ finished?" the irrepressible fairy demanded impatiently. "'Cause if you are, we've got a rescue mission to start out on." 

The two women laughed again, and Impa sent Zelda toward her horse with an affectionate shove. "Take care of yourself--and that's a command, Your Highness." 

"You too, Impa--and that's also a command, Royal Bodyguard." Zelda tugged her horse's rein lightly and nudged him to a walk, heading out of camp. "Goodbye!" 

"See you later, Impa!" Navi squeaked, settling on Zelda's shoulder for the trip. 

Chekuko was up on his horse in a flash, eager to be off, eager to prove himself. "[I am prepared. I will not fail you, Lady Twilight.]" 

"[Protect her,]" Impa whispered to the boy. 

"[With my life,]" Chekuko promised, turning his horse after Zelda's. "[It is an honor to serve the family of the Chieftain. Be well, Lady!]" 

"[Good luck, Arrow-Flight. Ride true, fight well, and stay strong!]" Impa raised her arm to wave at the little party as the two horses struck out over the barren, ice-spotted plain, heading for the Haucha River. As they passed into the distance, Impa still watched them, her eyes growing worried and sad. "[Take care, my dearest princess. I do not want to lose both my son and my adopted daughter. Take care of yourself as well...]"   
  
_To Be Continued..._


	15. Leonine's Treasure

((LEGAL STUFF: Link, Zelda, Impa, and the other game-based characters are property and copyrights of Nintendo. No infringement intended. No profit made--these stories are purely for reader enjoyment. The new characters introduced here are mine, purely fictional--do not use them without my permission! Any similarities to events and persons in reality or other peoples' stories are purely coincidental. Thank you for your patience.)) 

  
  
**The Legend of Zelda: Journey to the Past**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
  
**Chapter 15: Leonine's Treasure**

Link waited anxiously in the hallway outside a locked door--the door to the room he'd been told to meet Duke Lyon at first thing after breakfast. Hardly able to sleep the night before due to his excitement, he'd been up well before the official breakfast hour and had grabbed a hasty meal from the kitchen. He could hardly hold in his eagerness, almost dancing from foot to foot as he tried not to pace in the hall. 

Today was the day; Duke Lyon had informed him that they would begin his first sword lesson two days after their thrilling spar in the courtyard--and Link had nearly burst from impatience, the time in the interim passing like slow honey dripping from a bucket. He had spent his two days of waiting in anxious eagerness, talking with Lyon over meals about how the swordsmanship practices would go. Even Jared was excited about the prospect of at last spending regular time with his father. 

In his hands, Link held Captain Armand's fine steel blade, the sword that Lyon had generously given him for use. It was sheathed in a new leather scabbard, freshly polished and cared for; he'd also spent his waiting hours familiarizing himself with Armand's old sword--getting a scabbard for it, cleaning it, practicing with it. Beneath the years of dust, the hilt was set with small golden foxes with jeweled eyes, and the grip was bound with rough black leather perfect for a good handhold. It was no Master Sword, but it was one of the best common blades he'd ever come across. Balanced, strong, and light, it was truly a beautiful weapon. 

"Link!" 

The half-Sheikah looked up from his new sword, seeing Jared running up the hall toward him, blue eyes alight. "Good morning! What took you so long?" 

Jared skidded to a stop beside him, eager and breathless. "Goodness, it's not even breakfast yet! I'm not _that_ late, am I?" 

"Not at all," said a new voice. Duke Lyon himself was striding up the hall behind his younger son, his face much brighter than it usually was. "I see that all three of us are too anxious to wait through a long meal." 

"Sir!" Link jumped to attention alongside Jared, both of them wide-eyed and enthusiastic. 

"Shall we?" With a patient smile, Lyon produced a ring of keys, one of which he used to unlock the door of the room they waited by. "I haven't been in this room..." the older man said softly, pushing the door open. "Hm...since Armand died..." 

Somewhat awed, the two boys furtively slipped inside after the Duke, gawking around the great room like peasants in a palace. 

As large as a ballroom, it was a magnificent place, though it was dark, dusty, and the drapes were closed over the windows. All about the walls hung swords, axes, pikes, and other weapons; in the alcoves between pillars rested tables, most covered by sheets to protect what lay beneath. There were other shapes covered by sheets, some that looked like practice dummies, others that Link had no clue what they might be. Stairs on either side of the door led up to an upper balcony that extended around the entire room, except for the window wall, and it was set with seats like an observation gallery. The center of the floor of the room was not tiled, however--it was a large section filled with dirt or sand, like an arena. 

"Indeed, it _has_ been a long time," Lyon said, breaking the awed silence of the two youths. "I shall have to set the servants to cleaning this place up once again--this is far too much disrepair if we are to be holding regular meetings here." 

"It's...it's _amazing_," Link uttered at last. "A whole room...devoted to swordsmanship...!" 

"Not just swordsmanship, young Link," Lyon corrected as he strode across the expanse toward the windows on the far wall. "This is the place where I was taught to become a warrior. There is more to battle than merely sword skills." 

Link nodded, half to himself, remembering Impa telling him something quite similar. Beside him, Jared was bright-eyed, soaking up every word his father said; truly, the boy was delighted to have this chance. 

Gripping the heavy drapes, Lyon began to draw them aside, throwing back the thick material on the lower windows and letting in the cool winter sun. The windows were huge, and each one was paned with glass--an expensive commodity here in the South, Link knew. The room was suddenly brighter; though the upper windows still remained curtained, even this much sun seemed to give the place life. 

"There, that helps a little," Lyon announced, smiling back at the youths. "It shall have to be enough for today." 

"It's wonderful!" Jared breathed, the first words he'd spoken since he'd entered the room. 

Now, Lyon was proceeding to the head of the room, where most of the sheet-covered oaken tables waited. There was a wistful shine in the Duke's eyes as he began to pull aside the cloths, uncovering weapons lying on tabletops that were padded with velvet. The eyes of the two boys grew wider and wider as more and more swords, knives, axes, and others were revealed. On the center table, the largest, rested the swords; there were many types of blades--sabers, broadswords, rapiers, and some that Link had never seen before. Each weapon was gleaming and beautiful, untouched by dust beneath the sheets; Link knew at once that the same master smith that had created Captain Armand's blade had indeed forged quite a few of these--along with many other expert weaponsmiths that had contributed their expertise to the manufacture of these highly effective works of art. 

"They're beautiful," Link commented softly as Lyon drew aside the last coverings. "Were they made here? You must've had three...maybe four master smiths working for you!" 

Lyon smiled at him, brows raised in some surprise. "You've a good eye, Link. Yes, several different weaponsmiths created these swords, all of them geniuses in their craft...though I'm sad to say that I have none working here now. The last smith--the creator of Captain Armand's sword and some of these here--left in my father's time, before I became the Duke." He gestured to another set of swords, of a different style than Armand's. "Some of these blades are very, very old--such as these, made in my great-grandfather's time." 

"I've never seen so many blades like these..." Link gazed about the tables like a child in a wondrous new toy store, unable to choose a favorite. Some of the blades, though still no comparison to the Master Sword, astonished him with their beauty. Even without touching them, he could see their excellence. 

"Link...would you like to see the finest sword in Leonine's collection?" Lyon asked quietly, an almost-eager sparkle shining deep in his blue eyes. 

Link whirled to stare at him. "Would I...? _Could_ I?" 

"Can I see it too, Father?" Jared asked from beside him. 

"Of course you can!" Lyon replied with almost a laugh. He led them both to the other end of the room, to the wall hung with various weapons more common than those on the velvet-covered tables. Set into the wall was a vault, which Lyon brought out his ring of keys once more to unlock. "Only I have the key to this vault," he informed them, "for what lies within is the heart and pride of Leonine." 

Jared and Link leaned forward to see, as Lyon reached into the dark interior of the vault to bring forth his treasure. He brought out the box and set it on the adjacent table, running a hand almost lovingly over its smooth surface. 

It was a long, thin chest made of some pale, brilliant, beautifully-polished wood that seemed to shine as if it were burnished gold itself. The metalwork was simple and understated, plain gold with elegant scrolling carved into its surfaces. 

"Jared...this has been in our family since before Leonine began," Lyon said. "Even before our forefathers became the rulers of this country...this sword was theirs, handed down from father to son. It became our namesake, our center, and our source of power." Carefully, he unlatched the chest and drew back the lid. Inside, a sword rested in the padded interior, which was covered by a strange, beautiful fabric that glimmered a golden color, supple like silk yet soft like velvet. "This..." Lyon went on in a whisper. "This is the Lion's Blade." 

The sword itself took Link's breath away. 

It was absolutely _magnificent_. Larger than most swords, it appeared to be heavy but by the grip of the hilt he knew it to be a one-handed weapon and therefore lighter than it looked. The blade was so smooth and shiny that he could see himself in it; it had to be steel if it was as light as he thought it was, but the metal gleamed with a slight golden sheen, as if made of some unknown alloy. The hilt was simple as well, made of what appeared to be pure gold--but again would have to be some kind of steel if it were to have any kind of strength. The hilt was formed with a lion-claw look to it; though there were no designs to the metal itself, it still seemed to bear the mark of its name. 

Link hadn't seen a sword like this since... And his own thought made him catch his breath: _...since the Master Sword._

Somehow, impossibly, the Lion's Blade was on par with that gods-forged weapon. His eyes could pick out the places where the quality of the two swords intersected--in the sharpness and straightness of the blade-edge, the soundness of the hilt's mounting, the simplicity of the hilt's design, the straightforward strength both weapons exuded. Even the designs bore similar earmarks, as if both swords had been forged by the same man... 

He caught himself reaching out to the blade, as if to touch it--and jerked his hand back, casting a careful, apologetic glance toward Lyon. 

But the Duke only smiled at him. "Quite a weapon, isn't it?" 

Mutely, Link nodded. Beside him, Jared too was speechless. 

Lyon's fingers traced the carvings on the inside of the chest's lid. "I know that this sword is very special," the older man informed them. "According to the legends passed down, it was forged in the Old Times--do you know of the stories, Link? The Old Times when the Golden Power was left behind in the mortal realms, and men still lived who had walked with the Elder Ones and learned their secrets--secrets like those which gave birth to this sword of legendary mystical properties. It is said that the Lion's Blade was forged of a forgotten metal called Earthgold, created by one of the Four Swordsmiths who were students of the Master." 

_Master...could that have anything to do with the Master Sword?_ Link wondered to himself, still staring at the Lion's Blade. _They're enough alike...if this weapon was created by an apprentice of whatever made the Master Sword...!_

"Are you sure that's the story, Father?" Jared asked hesitantly, almost skeptically. "Really, a magic sword? I know there's a _little_ magic in the world, like the Shining Sword Attack...but I thought that sort of thing had died out a long time ago, long before Leonine." 

"I'm sure most of the secrets of the Old Times are lost to us," Lyon replied. "Things such as the manipulation of the elements, musical lore, the rivers of Time, true magic that isn't merely blood-power..." 

Link started a bit, somewhat surprised that the folk of the South knew so little of such things--though even in his homeland of Central Hyrule, the older magics grew more and more rare. 

"Legends speak of many old secrets even here in our home country," Lyon went on, as if chiding his doubting son. "And as for the Lion's Blade, I'm inclined to agree with the inscriptions on the chest and the stories I've heard. This sword is far older than Leonine Castle, yet it shows no hint of age; no rust, no tarnish, nor has the blade ever once needed sharpening. Even the chest in which it rests has not aged--no moths have touched the strange material within, no mildew has marred the wood's surface. What can that be if not some kind of magic?" 

Subdued, Jared stared at the sword again, wide-eyed. 

His eyes strangely bright, Lyon reached into the chest and gently laid hold of the ancient sword's hilt, drawing it out of its resting place and holding it up in the sunlight. It was even more beautiful as it gleamed in the wintry brilliance. "Besides..." The older man continued. "I can feel it when I touch this blade. I have not used it but once, in the first wars...but when I hold it I know that something great lies deep within it." 

Link clenched his fists, finding that his hands itched to hold the magnificent weapon. If it was anything like the Master Sword he'd wielded...! 

Lyon's blue eyes caught his gaze, and the older man smiled at him--a strangely knowing smile. With a flick of his wrist, the Lion's Blade turned over in his grip, and he was holding the hilt out to Link, offering it to him. "Would you like to test the heft of it?" 

Link's jaw dropped--and Jared eyed him enviously. "I...I...I'd love to...!" the half-Sheikah stammered, stepping forward to wrap trembling fingers around the grip of the Lion's Blade. 

Lyon released the sword...and Link found himself holding the awesome weapon in his own hand. It thrilled him; it was just as light as he'd thought--light like the Master Sword--and the balance was utterly _perfect_ as he turned it over in his grip. It felt keen and quick, strong and solid yet seemingly weightless despite its size--even lighter than Armand's fine sword. 

This sword...it felt like the Master Sword--though heavier and rougher, it was still familiar. A younger brother of that gods-forged blade, different yet the same. It had _power_ in it too--he understood, now, what Lyon had spoken of. That same energy, that same tingle that came when he touched the Master Sword, though the Lion's Blade _felt_ different in this as well. There was a sense that this weapon recognized him--as the Master Sword had recognized him--but where the Sword had been coolly impartial with its acknowledgement, the Blade felt warm and welcoming...as if it _knew_ him. 

A sudden thrill of apprehension spun through him as he realized that somehow, this blade knew who he was--it recognized him as a scion of its legacy; it _knew_ what bloodline he carried, whose son he was...and it received him openly, accepted him as one of its own... 

Swallowing hard, Link quickly offered the Lion's Blade back to the Duke, frightened of how easily the beautiful golden sword welcomed him. He was relieved when Lyon again took posession of the weapon, yet he still felt a strange longing to hold it again. Somehow, the Lion's Blade _pulled_ at him more deeply than the Master Sword once had...and that in itself was strangely alarming to him. 

The Master Sword had recognized him as worthy, as the Hero of his generation, and allowed him to wield it...but the Lion's Blade knew him like a friend, like a brother, and made him feel so much like he _belonged_... 

"Link? Are you all right?" 

Jared's voice so close beside him made him jump; taking a shaky breath, he put on a smile and nodded. "Yes! I-I'm fine," he replied quickly, as Lyon put the Lion's Blade away and gently closed the chest's lid. 

"A magnificent sword," Lyon said, turning back to the youths. "It truly does rob one of speech." 

Both Link and Jared nodded vigorously, earning a sudden humorous smile from the Duke. 

"Well then, we have a swordsmanship lesson to commence, don't we?" Lyon announced, clapping both of them on the shoulder and turning them back toward the waiting arena. "Shall we begin?"   
  
_To Be Continued..._


	16. In Practice

((LEGAL STUFF: Link, Zelda, Impa, and the other game-based characters are property and copyrights of Nintendo. No infringement intended. No profit made--these stories are purely for reader enjoyment. The new characters introduced here are mine, purely fictional--do not use them without my permission! Any similarities to events and persons in reality or other peoples' stories are purely coincidental. Thank you for your patience.)) 

  
  
**The Legend of Zelda: Journey to the Past**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
  
**Chapter 16: In Practice**

They began their lesson with wooden swords, a fact which was much to Jared's relief. Link was somewhat confused, as he had never used a practice sword in all his life; his circumstances had required him to simply pick up a blade of steel and rely on his own raw talent to learn as he went. Not that he voiced as much to the others--but before he could ask anything at all, Lyon explained that this was a lesson, not combat; they were here in the interests of learning technique, not injuring each other. 

And the wooden swords in Leonine's training hall were a far cry from mere sword-shaped sticks nailed to crossguards. They were finely made, carved and shaped for proper balance, with leather-wrapped hilts, cored with metal for strength and correct weight. Made of hard oak, if given a proper edge they could almost have been blades themselves. 

"Now," Lyon announced, when each had chosen a practice sword best suited to him, "I'm sure we don't have to go over the basics of sword-handling; I trust each of you has had proper training in the past. At least in Jared's case--" And he gave the younger boy a meaningful look, resting the point of his wooden sword at his feet. "--I should certainly hope that Sergeant Bryant has been fulfilling his duties in that regard." 

"Yes, Father," Jared responded, flushing slightly. 

Lyon nodded. "And I have been remiss in my responsibilities as your father, not seeing to at least part of your training myself. It pains me to admit...I have never even seen you in practice, my son." 

Keeping silent, Link looked back and forth between Lyon and Jared, unsurprised to see the shadows and regret on the older man's face. Perhaps that was part of the reason why the Duke of Leonine was so melancholy--so many things in his life passed him by, while he was tied up in running a small country. 

"It's alright, Father," Jared replied quickly, trying to appear bright and earnest. "I know you're quite busy. And...I've shown no interest before..." 

"But that's changed, right?" Link offered, to break the sudden uncomfortable silence. "Now we're here." 

"True," Lyon acceded, giving Link a small smile. "I shall take this as a rare chance to correct something I let slip by me before. Well then..." He tightened his grip on his practice sword. "I should like to test Jared, at least, before we truly begin. I have already seen what Link is capable of." 

The younger boy gulped. "Am I to face _you_, Father?" 

"In time, my son, in time," Lyon chuckled. "For now, I would have Link test you, so that I may watch you both. If I am to be your instructor, I should like to know where both of you stand." 

"Y-yes, Father." Jared's nervousness only subsided somewhat, but Link was pleased. He'd get to see firsthand just how good Jared was--and show Lyon how skilled both of them could be. 

"It'll be okay, Jared," Link told him, giving a grin. "Just go easy on me." 

Despite himself, the younger boy laughed. "I'll try." Both of them stepped over to the center of the arena's firmly-soiled surface, as Lyon looked on. 

"Begin when you are both ready," the Duke instructed, "and carry on to first blood. Then we shall see where we stand." 

The two youths were already facing each other, setting their feet, so they did not nod or reply to Lyon. They regarded each other over the nicked, battle-scarred wooden blades, both grinning; though Jared fought it, not knowing why he felt like smiling. 

"All set?" Link offered the younger boy a bit of warning, since he was nervous. "Here I come!" 

He struck, choosing a smooth, direct swing to start off with, and not putting his whole shoulder into it. Despite the warning, Jared seemed slightly startled, blinking and freezing a mere instant before moving to respond. 

The younger swordsman's blade _clacked_ loudly against Link's, stopping the blow. But his grip was like a scared rabbit and he couldn't have blocked anything with much more force behind it; even as their swords disengaged and Link tried another tack, the boy was still hesitating, his eyes flicking to Lyon as if seeking his approval for each defense. 

As he pressed the younger boy back with half-blows, Link saw and understood; he knew exactly what Jared was feeling, for he was feeling the same. The only difference between them was that Link was already battle-hardened and experienced, and knew how to keep both his eyes and his mind on-task. Still, the urge to gain the Duke's praise was very strong. 

And apparently, Lyon noticed his youngest son's hesitations as well. "Jared!" he called out, bringing a slight pause to the loud whacking of wooden swords. "Do not look at me, son--look to your opponent! I'm not the one you are facing!" 

Reprimanded, Jared frowned, his rhythm thrown off yet again--so much that even with the easy blows Link had been throwing at him, he was nearly hit. 

"Come on," Link urged, pressing his sword against Jared's, making the younger boy step back once more. "You want to show him how good you are? You have to beat me! You can't do that by backing up." He knew his tone was falling toward mocking, needling, but the only way to push Jared out of his anxiety was to get him angry enough to stop hesitating. "I know you don't like swords, Jared, but I never thought you were _afraid_ of them." 

Jared's eyes darkened, and he scowled. "I'm not afraid!" 

He dropped back one more step, twisted his sword, and disengaged from the lock in a move Link had seen Bryant pull off once during their match--but not nearly so swiftly. He had barely recovered his balance when Jared's sword whistled out at his chest--the first offensive move the boy had made!--and nearly nailed him from surprise alone. 

Link grinned again, feeling the startling force behind the blow as the impact vibrated through the wooden sword. _That's it, that's it! Show me what you can do, little brother!_

Jared attacked again, his technique strongly mirroring Bryant's but with much greater speed. He was strong for his size and surefooted, well trained in the forms and attacks--and now, just angry enough to go for it. 

The wooden swords no longer clacked dully together--now they _cracked_ sharply in the echoing space of the hall, reflecting the power and speed of the blows being shared. The mock-battle was no longer one-sided; both combatants were pressed to attack and defend, back and forth and in circles, several minutes passing with no sign of "first blood"--the first blow landed on flesh. 

To Link's pleased surprise, Jared was very good. For a boy who had insisted he didn't like swordsmanship, and hated fighting, he had very definite _skill_. He wondered how the other youth's own teacher, Bryant, could have described him as "not good with weapons." Perhaps Jared had never really _tried_ enough. 

But he was quick and strong and while he lacked in pure experience he had an excellent talent for the sword. For being such a quiet, gentle boy, Jared had surprising instincts for combat, for attack and defense, how and when to move, where to strike. 

The younger boy was very good, but still, not quite good enough. Link was still taking it rather easy on him. Well, _somewhat_ easy, Link had to admit to himself; not too much. 

Not very much at all. 

While Lyon watched with an intent, tightly pleased look on his face, the two youths continued to compare themselves. Jared seemed to have forgotten his reservations in the face of the fight, and Link was simply quite pleased to be enjoying a rather thrilling match. 

Link struck from above, a vertical shot meant to land on Jared's shoulder. The younger boy blocked overhead, slid the opposing blade aside, and turned to an upward cut toward Link's ribs. Just in time, Link pulled his sword in and downwards to parry, knocking Jared's sword outward, giving him clear room to strike again. 

Link went in for the "kill," taking advantage of the broad opening. Instead of blocking, Jared spun away, choosing to dodge instead. While Link was slightly overbalanced from the miss, Jared completed his turn with a level strike at the older youth's spine--which Link barely parried by bringing his blade up over his head and down to protect his wide-open back. With Jared's sword on his, he pushed both blades up and forward again, and he and the younger boy were facing each other once more. 

He was expecting Jared to be off-balance from the sudden maneuver, but he wasn't. Instead of hesitating, Jared let the momentum bring his blade around and direct it at Link's stomach. A close-in block stopped that, the wooden swords sliding along each other as the combatants were brought nearly face-to face. 

Jared pulled a different disengaging trick this time--turning the point of his blade downwards and literally tipping Link's sword off of his own. As soon as the weight of Link's sword was off the center of his own, he swung his blade outward and up as he stepped back, getting clear for another blow. Link was already recovering, his sword coming up-- 

"First blood!" Lyon's voice boomed into the expanse of the training hall, the sudden loud noise startling both youths out of a silence that had previously been made up of pants, grunts, and clashing wooden swords. 

Jared blinked in surprise, staring from Link to his father and back again as if waking from a dream. First blood? Where had he been hit? He surely would have felt it if someone as strong as Link had connected a blow. 

Link was grinning, shaking out his right arm, looking pleasantly surprised. "You got me," he panted, still grinning widely. "Good shot." 

"I...got you?" Jared blinked again, shaking his head. "No...I couldn't have--you let me have that one, right?" 

"No I didn't," Link almost laughed, holding up his right arm. "You clipped me right below the elbow with that last swing." 

Then Lyon was there, clapping Jared on the shoulder, smiling broadly as well. "Well done, Jared." 

Still disbelieving, the younger boy stared at his father. "But...it was an accident!" 

Now it was the Duke's turn to laugh. "Mayhaps it was, son, but you _did_ connect. Even if Link was not trying his hardest against you--" And he turned a meaningful look at the young half-Sheikah, who grinned abashedly and shrugged apologetically. "--you did very well indeed." 

Jared gulped, at last allowing a faint smile to appear. "I...I suppose so." 

"You're better than I thought," Link said, stepping up, shaking his arm one last time. "I was going a little easy on you, but I didn't just _let_ you win. For someone who says he doesn't like swords...you're really good." 

The youth shrugged embarassedly in reply, looking down. 

"Now then," Lyon spoke up, releasing Jared's shoulder to stand back. "You are both quite skilled, at your respective levels. Jared, you have had a great deal of training, as I'm sure Bryant has drilled you, but you lack much in real battle experience." 

At this, Jared nodded in agreement, still looking down, as Lyon then turned to the older youth. 

"Link," the Duke went on, "I can see now, just as I did when we faced each other, that you have a great deal of combat experience, to say nothing of your innate talent. But I believe I am correct in assuming that you've had no formal training in the sword." 

Link nodded as well. "Yes, sir. I never really had much opportunity. When I was young...I had to just pick up a sword and survive. My mother gave me some teaching in the sword and other weapons, but still...it's not really the kind of training you mean." 

"I see," Lyon replied. "You are told how it is done and expected to do it, without much attention to the forms and stances. You are simply faced with live steel and real combat, learning by doing." 

Feeling somewhat embarrassed, Link shrugged. "I guess. That's been the case most of my life, your Excellency." 

"Do not be so downcast!" Now, Lyon grasped the older youth's shoulder, bringing his eyes back up. "You have made yourself a fine swordsman despite all. I have great respect for that. You were done a disservice by being thrown into battle with little training and less experience, but you have surpassed those obstacles as well as your opponents, and become by yourself a warrior. _Self_-made. There is great pride to be had in that strength, my boy." 

Wide-eyed, Link gazed at the older man with catching breath--almost glad his throat had hitched and his voice closed off so that he couldn't blurt out the things he most yearned to, every time that Lyon came so close to him, squeezed his shoulder so warmly, said such kind and wonderful things. "Thank you, sir," he said at last, shakily, when he was certain he could speak again. 

Lyon reached out to Jared's shoulder again, lightly shaking both boys to make them look up at him. "Come now, you both look so glum! We have a great opportunity here! Both of you have a great deal to learn from each other--you see? You shall hone each other, as I am training you; you will correct each other's mistakes and strengthen each other's weaknesses. Both of you have things which the other does not." The Duke smiled at them both. "And I would that both of you should surpass me one day, as your learning proceeds." 

Jared was smiling now, shyly eager and intensely grateful for his father's full attention and regard. It was clear that the younger boy would do nearly anything for Lyon now--any stretch of training or exercise, start as early as the dawn or work long into the night. 

Link smiled as well, but it was less bright, hiding the pain that squeezed at him. It hurt so much to come so close--to know what it felt like, almost, to be a son...yet to be so far away, unable to bridge the last gap, to take that final step. He clung to what he did have--this warmth, and friendship--and was grateful for it, silencing the cry in his heart that begged for something more. 

"Now..." Lyon squeezed their shoulders one last time before letting them go, stepping back. "We have a lesson to proceed with, do we not? Take up your swords, young sirs, and we'll begin to work on your techniques." 

Both Jared and Link brought themselves back to matters at hand, tightening their grips on their wooden blades and looking to the Duke for the real training to begin. 

"Do you remember how 'first blood' was drawn?" Lyon asked, directing the question to no one in particular. 

"I-I'm not exactly sure," Jared admitted, somewhat embarrassed for his unobservance. "I was not expecting to hit him..." 

Link gave the younger boy a brief smile. "He dropped his swordpoint and slid me off-balance, and clipped me with the return swing." 

"Very good," Lyon nodded. "Now how did he managed to get you off-balance?" 

"I was leaning too hard to push him back," Link admitted abashedly. 

"Yes, you were," the Duke informed him, stepping a little closer. "You should have been _pushing_, not leaning--using the strength of your upper body instead of your weight, therefore keeping your center of balance. A swordsman has nothing without his foundation, which is the strength of his stance. Stand _so_--" And Lyon demonstrated, urging Link to mimic the stance. "--to keep your center of gravity." 

Link took the stance, and held his sword as he was bid, listening eagerly and watching with bright rapt eyes, unaware of how young Jared unconsciously mirrored his gaze and expressions, both of them focussed on the Duke. 

"Good, good," Lyon went on, nodding. "Jared, stand here across from him, in the same stance--feet a little closer, son--there. If your swords are crossed like so, and Link is pressing the attack--if Jared should drop his sword as before...yes! You see? You are not so off-balance this time. Now again, and this time, Jared, when you drop your sword point, turn it slightly so that Link's blade is directed more _away_ from you--good, but strengthen your wrists; your sword should not waver..." 

The lesson proceeded, step by step, each movement corrected, as Link and Jared listened and learned. It was as fun as it was educational--time spent with Lyon, their father, doing something that, despite Jared's reservations, all three of them loved. 

Squaring his shoulders and turning his grip as Lyon directed, Link glanced at Jared and grinned in enjoyment. Across from him, Jared caught his grin and smiled too.   
  
_To Be Continued..._


End file.
